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HISTORY   AND   BIOGRAPHY. 


NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE. 


BOSTON; 
JAMES    R.   OSGOOD    AND    COMPANY, 

Late  Ticknor  &  Fields,  and  Fields,  Osgood,  &  Co. 
1876. 


v: 


COPYRIGHT,  1851. 
BY  NATHANIEL    HAWTHORNE. 


:    GIFT 

UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE. 


PREFACE. 


A  .  / 


N  writing  tliis  ponderous  tome,  the  author's  de 
sire  has  been  to  describe  the  eminent  characters 
and  remarkable  events  of  our  annals  in  such  a 
form  and  style  that  the  YOUNG  may  make  acquaintance 
with  them  of  their  own  accord.  For  this  purpose,  while 
ostensibly  relating  the  adventures  of  a  chair,  he  has  en 
deavored  to  keep  a  distinct  and  unbroken  thread  of  au 
thentic  history.  The  chair  is  made  to  pass  from  one  to 
another  of  those  personages  of  whom  he  thought  it  most 
desirable  for  the  young  reader  to  have  vivid  and  familiar 
ideas,  and  whose  lives  and  actions  would  best  enable  him 
to  give  picturesque  sketches  of  the  times.  On  its  sturdy 
oaken  legs  it  trudges  diligently  from  one  scene  to  another, 
and  seems  always  to  thrust  itself  in  the  way,  with  most 
benign  complacency,  whenever  an  historical  personage 
happens  to  be  looking  round  for  a  seat. 

There  is  certainly  no  method  by  which  the  shadowy 
outlines  of  departed  men  and  women  can  be  made  to 
assume  the  hues  of  life  more  effectually  than  by  connect 
ing  their  images  with  the  substantial  and  homely  reality  of 
a  fireside  chair.  It  causes  us  to  feel  at  once  that  these 

016 


VI  PIIEFACE. 

characters  of  history  had  a  private  and  familiar  existence, 
and  were  not  wholly  contained  within  that  cold  array  of 
outward  action  which  we  are  compelled  to  receive  as  the 
adequate  representation  of  their  lives.  If  this  impres 
sion  can  be  given,  much  is  accomplished. 

Setting  aside  Grandfather  and  his  auditors,  and  except 
ing  the  adventures  of  the  chair,  which  form  the  machinery 
of  the  work,  nothing  in  the  ensuing  pages  can  be  termed 
fictitious.  The  author,  it  is  true,  has  sometimes  assumed 
the  license  of  filling  up  the  outline  of  history  with  details 
for  which  he  has  none  but  imaginative  authority,  but 
which,  ha  hopes,  do  not  violate  nor  give  a  false  coloring 
to  the  truth.  He  believes  that,  in  this  respect,  his  nar 
rative  will  not  be  found  to  convey  ideas  and  impressions 
of  which  the  reader  may  hereafter  find  it  necessary  to 
purge  his  mind. 

The  author's  great  doubt  is,  whether  he  has  succeeded 
in  writing  a  book  which  will  be  readable  by  the  class  for 
whom  he  intends  it.  To  make  a  lively  and  entertaining 
narrative  for  children,  with  such  unmalleable  material  as 
is  presented  by  the  sombre,  stern,  and  rigid  characteris 
tics  of  the  Puritans  and  their  descendants,  is  quite  as 
difficult  an  attempt  as  to  manufacture  delicate  playthings 
out  of  the  granite  rocks  on  which  New  England  is 
founded.  « 


THE  WHOLE  HISTORY 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


COMPLETE  IN  THREE  PARTS. 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR. 


PART   I. 
CHAPTER    I. 

RANDFATHER  Lad  been  sitting  in  his  old 
arm-chair  all  that  pleasant  afternoon,  while  the 
children  were  pursuing  their  various  sports  far 
off  or  near  at  hand.  Sometimes  you  would  have  said, 
"  Grandfather  is  asleep  " ;  but  still,  even  when  his  eyes 
were  closed,  his  thoughts  were  with  the  young  people, 
playing  among  the  flowers  and  shrubbery  of  the-  garden. 

He  heard  the  voice  of  Laurence,  who  had  'taken  pos 
session  of  a  heap  of  decayed  branches  which  the  gar 
dener  had  lopped  from  the  fruit  trees,  and  was  building 
a  little  hut  for  his  cousin  Clara  and  himself.  He  heard 
Clara's  gladsome  voice,  too,  as  she  weeded  and  watered 
the  flower-bed  which  had  been  given  her  for  her  own. 
He  could  have  counted  every  footstep  that  Charley  took, 
as  he  trundled  his  wheelbarrow  along  the  gravel-walk. 
And  though  Grandfather  was  old  and  gray-haired,  yet 
his  heart  leaped  with  joy  whenever  little  Alice  came 
fluttering,  like  a  butterfly,  into  the  room.  She  had  made 
each  of  the  children  her  playmate  in  turn,  and  now  made 
I* 


10  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Grandfather  her  playmate  too,  and  thought  him  the  mer 
riest  of  them  all. 

At  last  the  children  grew  weary  of  their  sports ; 
because  a  summer  afternoon  is  like  a  long  lifetime  to 
the  young.  So  they  came  into  the  room  together,  and 
clustered  round  Grandfather's  great  chair.  Little  Alice, 
who  was  hardly  five  years  old,  took  the  privilege  of  the 
youngest',  and  climbed  his  knee.  It  was  a  pleasant  thing 
to  behold  that  fair  and  golden-haired  child  in  the  lap 
of  the  old  man,  and  to  think  that,  different  as  they  were, 
the  hearts  of  both  could  be  gladdened  with  the  same 

j°ys- 

"  Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  laying  her  head  back 
upon  his  arm,  "  I  am  very  tired  now.  You  must  tell 
me  a  story  to  make  me  go  to  sleep." 

"  That  is  not  what  story-tellers  like,"  answered  Grand 
father,  smiling.  "They  are  better  satisfied  when  they 
can  keep  their  auditors  awake. "(J'j  AA*4 

"  But  here  are  Laurence,  and  'Charley,  and  I,"  cried 
cousin  Clara,  who  was  twice  as  old  as  little  Alice.  "  We 
will  all  three  keep  wide  awake.  And  pray,  Grandfather, 
tell  us  a  story  about  this  strange-looking  old  chair." 

Now,  the  chair  in  which  Grandfather  sat  was  made  of 
oak,  which  had  grown  dark  with  age,  but  had  been 
rubbed  and  polished  till  it  shone  as  bright  as  mahogany. 
It  was  very  large  and  heavy,  and  had  a  back  that  rose 
high  above  Grandfather's  white  head.  This  back  was 
curiously  carved  in  open  work,  so  as  to  represent  flow 
ers,  and  foliage,  and  other  devices,  which  the  children 
had  often .  gazed  at,  but  could  never  understand  what 
they  meant.  On  the  very  tip-top  of  the  chair,  over  the 
head  of  Grandfather  himself,  was  a  likeness  of  a  lion's 
head,  which  had  such  a  savage  grin  that  you  would 
almost  expect  to  hear  it  gro\vl  and  snarl. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  11 

The  children  had  seen  Grandfather  sitting  in  this  chair 
ever  since  they  could  remember  anything.  Perhaps  the 
younger  of  them  supposed  that  he  and  the  chair  had 
come  into  the  world  together,  and  that  both  had  always 
been  as  old  as  they  were  now.  At  this  time,  however,  it 
happened  to  be  the  fashion  for  ladies  to  adorn  their 
drawing-rooms  with  the  oldest  and  oddest  chairs  that 
could  be  found.  It  seemed  to  cousin  Clara  that,  if  these 
ladies  could  have  seen  Grandfather's  old  chair,  they 
would  have  thought  it  worth  all  the  rest  together.  She 
wondered  if  it  were  not  even  older  than  Grandfather 
himself,  and  longed  to  know  all  about  its  history. 

"Do,  Grandfather,  talk  to  us  about  this  chair,"  sho 
repeated. 

"  Well,  child,"  said  Grandfather,  patting  Clara's 
cheek,  "  I  can  tell  you  a  great  many  stories  of  my 
chair.  Perhaps  your  cousin  Laurence  would  like  to 
hear  them  too.  They  would  teach  him  something  about 
the  history  and  distinguished  people  of  his  country  which 
he  has  never  react  in  any  of  hjs, school-books." 

Cousin  Laurence  was  a  boy  of  twelve,  a  bright  scholar, 
in  whom  an  early  thoughtfulness  and  sensibility  began  to 
show  themselves.  His  young  fancy  kindled  at  the  idea 
of  knowing  all  the  adventures  of  this  venerable  chair. 
He  looked  eagerly  in  Grandfather's  face ;  and  even 
Charley,  a  bold,  brisk,  restless  little  fellow  of  nine,  sat 
himself  down  on  the  carpet,  and  resolved  to  be  quiet  for 
at  least  ten  minutes,  should  the  story  last  so  long. 

Meantime,  little  Alice  was  already  asleep  ;  so  Grand 
father,  being  much  pleased  with  such  an  attentive  audi 
ence,  began  to  talk  about  matters  that  happened  long 


CHAPTER    II. 


UT  before  relating  the  adventures  of  the  chair, 
Grandfather  found  it  necessary  to  speak  of  the 
circumstances  that  caused  the  first  settlement  of 
New  England.  For  it  will  soon  be  perceived  that  the 
story  of  this  remarkable  chair  cannot  be  told  without  tell 
ing  a  great  deal  of  the  history  of  the  country. 

So  Grandfather  talked  about  the  Puritans,  as  those 
persons  were  called  who  thought  it  sinful  to  practise  the 
religious  forms  and  ceremonies  which  the  Church  of  Eng 
land  had  borrowed  from  the  lloman  Catholics.  These 
Puritans  suffered  so  much  persecution  in  England,  that, 
in  1607,  many  of  them  went  over  to  Holland,  and  lived 
ten  or  twelve  years  at  Amsterdam  and  Leyden.  But 
they  feared  that,  if  they  continued  there  much  longer, 
they  should  cease  to  be  English,  and  should  adopt  all  the 
manners,  and  ideas,  and  feelings  of  the  Dutch.  For  this 
and  other  reasons,  in  the  year  1620  they  embarked  on 
board  of  the  ship  Mayflower,  and  crossed  the  ocean  to 
the  shores  of  Cape  Cod.  There  they  made  a  settlement, 
and  called  it  Plymouth,  which,  though  now  a  part  of 
Massachusetts,  was  for  a  long  time  a  colony  by  itself. 
And  thus  was  formed  the  earliest  settlement  of  the  Puri 
tans  in  America. 

Meantime,  those  of  the  Puritans  who  remained  in  Eng- 


GllANDFATHEE'S    CHAIR.  13 

land  continued  to  suffer  grievous  persecution  on  account 
of  their  religious  opinions.  They  began  to  look  around 
them  for  some  spot  where  they  might  worship  God,  not 
as  the  king  and  bishops  thought  fit,  but  according  to  the 
dictates  of  their  own  consciences.  When  their  brethren 
had  gone  from  Holland  to  America,  they  bethought  them 
selves  that  they  likewise  might  find  refuge  from  persecu 
tion  there.  Several  gentlemen  among  them  purchased  a 
tract  of  country  on  the  coast  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  and 
obtained  a  charter  from  King  Charles,  which  authorized 
them  to  make  laws  for  the  settlers.  In  the  year  1628 
they  sent  over  a  few  people,  with  John  Endicott  at  their 
head,  to  commence  a  plantation  at  Salem.  Peter  Palfrey, 
lloger  Conant,  and  one  or  two  more  had  built  houses 
there  in  1626,  and  may  be  considered  as  the  first  settlers 
of  that  ancient  town.  Many  other  Puritans  prepared  to 
follow  Endicott. 

"And  now  we  come  to  the  chair,  my  dear  children," 
said  Grandfather.  "  This  chair  is  supposed  to  have  been 
made  of  an  oak-tree  which  grew  in  the  park  of  the  Eng 
lish  Earl  of  Lincoln  between  two  and  three  centuries 
ago.  In  its  younger  days  it  used,  probably,  to  stand  in 
the  hall  of  the  earl's  castle.  Do  not  you  see  the  coat  of 
arms  of  the  family  of  Lincoln  carved  in  the  open  work 
of  the  back  ?  But  when  his  daughter,  the  Lady  Ar- 
bella,  was  married  to  a  certain  Mr.  Johnson,  the  earl 
gave  her  this  valuable  chair." 

"  Who  was  Mr.  Johnson  ?  "  inquired  Clara. 

"  He  was  a  gentleman  of  great  wealth,  who  agreed 
with  the  Puritans  in  their  religious  opinions,"  answered 
Grandfather.  "  And  as  his  belief  was  the  same  as  theirs, 
he  resolved  that  he  would  live  and  die  with  them.  Ac 
cordingly,  in  the  month  of  April,  1630,  he  left  his  pleas 
ant  abode  and  all  his  comforts  in  England,  and  embarked, 


14  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

with  Lady  Arbella,  on  board  of  a  ship  bound  for  Amer 
ica." 

As  Grandfather  was  frequently  impeded  by  the  ques 
tions  and  observations  of  his  young  auditors,  we  deem  it 
advisable  to  omit  all  such  prattle  as  is  not  essential  to  the 
story.  We  have  taken  some  pains  to  find  out  exactly 
what  Grandfather  said,  and  here  offer  to  our  readers,  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  his  own  words,  the  story  of 

THE  LADY  ARBELLA. 

The  ship  in  which  Mr.  Johnson  and  his  lady  embarked, 
taking  Grandfather's  chair  along  with  them,  was  called 
the  Arbella,  in  honor  of  the  lady  herself.  A  fleet  of  ten 
or  twelve  vessels,  with  many  hundred  passengers,  left 
England  about  the  same  time  ;  for  a  multitude  of  people, 
who  were  discontented  with  the  king's  government  and 
oppressed  by  the  bishops,  were  flocking  over  to  the  New 
World.  One  of  the  vessels  in  the  fleet  was  that  same 
Mayflower  which  had  carried  the  Puritan  Pilgrims  to 
Plymouth.  And  now,  my  children,  I  would  have  you 
fancy  yourselves  in  the  cabin  of  the  good  ship  Arbella  ; 
because,  if  you  could  behold  the  passengers  aboard  that 
vessel,  you  would  feel  what  a  blessing  and  honor  it  was 
for  New  England  to  have  such  settlers.  They  were  the 
best  men  and  women  of  their  day. 

Among  the  passengers  was  John  Winthrop,  who  had 
sold  the  estate  of  his  forefathers,  and  was  going  to  pre 
pare  a  new  home  for  his  wife  and  children  in  the  wilder 
ness.  He  had  the  king's  charter  in  his  keeping,  and  was 
appointed  the  first  governor  of  Massachusetts.  Imagine 
him  a  person  of  grave  and  benevolent  aspect,  dressed  in 
a  black  velvet  suit,  with  a  broad  ruff  around  his  neck, 
and  a  peaked  beard  upon  his  chin.  There  was  likewise  a 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  15 

minister  of  the  gospel  whom  the  English  bishops  had  for 
bidden  to  preach,  but  who  knew  that  he  should  have 
liberty  botli  to  preach  and  pray  in  the  forests  of  America. 
He  wore  a  black  cloak,  called  a  Geneva  cloak,  and  had  a 
black  velvet  cap,  fitting  close  to  his  head,  as  was  the 
fashion  of  almost  all  the  Puritan  clergymen.  In  their 
company  came  Sir  Richard  Saltonstall,  who  had  been  one 
of  the  five  first  projectors  ef  the  new  colony.  He  soon 
returned  to  his  native  country.  But  his  descendants  still 
remain  in  New  England;  and  the  good  old  family  name 
is  as  much  respected  in  our  days  as  it  was  in  those  of 
Sir  Richard. 

Not  only  these,  but  several  other  men  of  wealth  and 
pious  ministers  were  in  the  cabin  of  the  Arbella.  One 
had  banished  himself  forever  from  the  old  hall  where  his 
ancestors  had  lived  for  hundreds  of  years.  Another  hai 
left  his  quiet  parsonage,  in  a  country  town  of  England. 
Others  had  come  from  the  Universities  of  Oxford  or 
Cambridge,  where  they  had  gained  great  fame  for  their 
learning.  And  here  they  all  were,  tossing  upon  the  un 
certain  and  dangerous  sea,  and  bound  for  a  home  that 
was  more  dangerous  than  even  the  sea  itself.  In  the 
cabin,  likewise,  sat  the  Lady  Arbella  in  her  chair,  with  a 
gentle  and  sweet  expression  on  her  face,  but  looking  too 
pale  and  feeble  to  endure  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness. 

Every  morning  and  evening  the  Lady  Arbella  gave  up 
her  great  chair  to  one  of  the  ministers,  who  took  his  place 
in  it  and  read  passages  from  the  Bible  to  his  companions. 
And  thus,  with  prayers,  and  pious  conversation,  and  fre 
quent  singing  of  hymns,  which  the  breezes  caught  from 
their  lips  and  scattered  far  over  the  desolate  waves,  they 
prosecuted  their  voyage,  and  sailed  into  the  harbor  of 
Salem  in  the  month  of  June. 

At  that  period  there  were  but  six  or  eight  dwellings  in 


16  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

the  town;  and  these  were  miserable  hovels,  with  roofs  of 
straw  and  wooden  chimneys.  The  passengers  in  the  fleet 
either  built  huts  with  bark  and  branches  of  trees,  or 
erected  tents  of  cloth  till  they  could  provide  themselves 
with  better  shelter.  Many  of  them  went  to  form  a  set 
tlement  at  Charlestown.  It  was  thought  fit  that  the 
Lady  Arbella  should  tarry  in  Salem  for  a  time :  she  was 
probably  received  as  a  guest  into  the  family  of  John 
Endicott.  He  was  the  chief  person  in  the  plantation, 
and  had  the  only  comfortable  house  which  the  new 
comers  had  beheld  since  they  left  England.  So  now, 
children,  you  must  imagine  Grandfather's  chair  in  the 
midst  of  a  new  scene. 

Suppose  it  a  hot  summer's  day,  and  the  lattice-win 
dows  of  a  chamber  in  Mr.  Endicott's  house  thrown  wide 
open.  The  Lady  Arbella,  looking  paler  than  she  did  on 
shipboard,  is  sitting  in  her  chair  and  thinking  mourn 
fully  of  far-off  England.  She  rises  and  goes  to  the  win 
dow.  There,  amid  patches  of  garden  ground  and  corn 
field,  she  sees  the  few  wretched  hovels  of  the  settlers, 
with  the  still  ruder  wigwams  and  cloth  tents  of  the  pas 
sengers  who  had  arrived  in  the  same  fleet  with  herself. 
Far  and  near  stretches  the  dismal  forest  of  pine-trees, 
which  throw  their  black  shadows  over  the  whole  land, 
and  likewise  over  the  heart  of  this  poor  lady. 

All  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  village  are  busy.  One 
is  clearing  a  spot  on  the  verge  of  the  forest  for  his  home 
stead  ;  another  is  hewing  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  pine-tree, 
in  order  to  build  himself  a  dwelling  ;  a  third  is  hoeing 
in  his  field  of  Indian  corn.  Here  comes  a  huntsman 
out  of  the  woods,  dragging  a  bear  which  he  has  shot, 
and  shouting  to  the  neighbors  to  lend  him  a  hand.  There 
goes  a  man  to  the  sea-shore,  with  a  spade  and  a  bucket, 
to  dig  a  mess  of  clams,  which  were  a  principal  article 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  17 

of  food  with  the  first  settlers.  Scattered  here  and 
there  are  two  or  three  dusky  figures,  clad  in  mantles 
of  fur,  with  ornaments  of  bone  hanging  from  their  ears, 
and  the  feathers  of  wild  birds  in  their  coal-black  hair. 
They  have  belts  of  shell-work  slung  across  their  shoul 
ders,  and  are  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and  flint- 
headed  spears.  These  are  an  Indian  sagamore  and  his 
attendants,  who  have  come  to  gaze  at  the  labors  of  the 
white  men.  And  now  rises  a  cry  that  a  pack  of  wolves 
have  seized  a  young  calf  in  the  pasture;  and  every 
man  snatches  up  his  gun  or  pike  and  runs  in  chase  of 
the  marauding  beasts. 

Poor  Lady  Arbella  watches  all  these  sights,  and  feels 
that  this  New  World  is  fit  only  for  rough  and  hardy  peo 
ple.  None  should  be  here  but  those  who  can  struggle 
with  wild  beasts  and  wild  men,  and  can  toil  in  the  heat 
or  cold,  and  can  keep  their  hearts  firm  against  all  diffi 
culties  and  dangers.  But  she  is  not  one  of  these.  Her 
gentle  and  timid  spirit  sinks  within  her ;  and,  turning 
away  from  the  window,  she  sits  down  in  the  great  chair 
and  wonders  whereabouts  in  the  wilderness  her  friends 
will  dig  her  grave. 

Mr.  Johnson  had  gone,  with  Governor  Winthrop  and 
most  of  the  other  passengers,  to  Boston,  where  he  in 
tended  to  build  a  house  for  Lady  Arbella  and  himself. 
Boston  was  then  covered  with  wild  woods,  and  had  fewer 
inhabitants,  even,  than  Salem.  During  her  husband's 
absence,  poor  Lady  Arbella  felt  herself  growing  ill,  and 
was  hardly  able  to  stir  from  the  great  chair.  Whenever 
John  Endicott  noticed  her  despondency,  he  doubtless  ad 
dressed  her  with  words  of  comfort.  "  Cheer  up,  my 
good  lady  !  "  he  would  say.  "  In  a  little  time,  you  will 
love  this  rude  life  of  the  wilderness  as  I  do."  But  En- 
dicott's  heart  was  as  bold  and  resolute  as  iron,  and  he 


18  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR. 

could  not  understand  why  a  woman's  heart  should  not 
be  of  iron  too. 

Still,  however,  he  spoke  kindly  to  the  lady,  and  then 
hastened  forth  to  till  his  cornfield  and  set  out  fruit-trees, 
or  to  bargain  with  the  Indians  for  furs,  or  perchance  to 
oversee  the  building  of  a  fort.  Also,  being  a  magistrate, 
he  had  often  to  punish  some  idler  or  evil  doer,  by  order 
ing  him  to  be  set  in  the  stocks  or  scourged  at  the  whip 
ping-post.  Often,  too,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  times, 
he  and  Mr.  Higginson,  the  minister  of  Salem,  held  long 
religious  talks  together.  Thus  John  Endicott  was  a  man 
of  multifarious  business,  and  had  no  time  to  look  back 
regretfully  to  his  native  land.  He  felt  himself  fit  for  the 
New  World  and  for  the  work  that  he  had  to  do,  and  set 
himself  resolutely  to  accomplish  it. 

What  a  contrast,  my  dear  children,  between  this  bold, 
rough,  active  man,  and  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella,  who 
was  fading  away,  Lke  a  pale  English  flower,  in  the 
shadow  of  the  forest !  And  now  the  great  chair  was 
often  empty,  because  Lady  Arbella  grew  too  weak  to 
arise  from  bed. 

Meantime,  her  husband  had  pitched  upon  a  spot  for 
their  new  home.  He  returned  from  Boston  to  Salem, 
travelling  through  the  woods  on  foot,  and  leaning  on  his 
pilgrim's  staff.  His  heart  yearned  within  him  ;  for  he 
was  eager  to  tell  his  wife  of  the  new  home  which  he  had 
chosen.  But  when  he  beheld  her  pale  and  hollow  cheek, 
and  found  how  her  strength  was  wasted,  he  must  have 
known  that  her  appointed  home  was  in  a  better  land. 
Happy  for  him  then  —  happy  both  for  him  and  her  —  if 
they  remembered  that  there  was  a  path  to  heaven,  as 
well  from  this  heathen  wilderness  as  from  the  Christian 
land  whence  they  had  come.  And  so,  in  one  short  month 
from  her  arrival,  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella  faded  away  and 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR,.  19 

died.  They  dug  a  grave  for  her  in  the  new  soil,  where 
the  roots  of  the  pine-trees  impeded  their  spades  ;  and 
when  her  bones  had  rested  there  nearly  two  hundred 
years,  and  a  city  had  sprung  up  around  them,  a  church 
of  stone  was  built  upon  the  spot. 

Charley,  almost  at  the  commencement  of  the  foregoing 
narrative,  had  galloped  away,  with  a  prodigious  clatter, 
upon  Grandfather's  stick,  and  was  not  yet  returned.  So 
large  a  boy  should  have  been  ashamed  to  ride  upon  a 
stick.  But  Laurence  and  Clara  had  listened  attentively, 
and  were  affected  by  this  true  story  of  the  gentle  lady 
who  had  come  so  far  to  die  so  soon.  Grandfather  had 
supposed  that  little  Alice  was  asleep ;  but  towards  the 
close  of  the  story,  happening  to  look  down  upon  her,  he 
saw  that  her  blue  eyes  were  wide  open,  and  fixed  ear 
nestly  upon  his  face.  The  tears  had  gathered  in  them, 
like  dew  upon  a  dalicate  flower ;  but  when  Grandfather 
ceased  to  speak,  the  sunshine  of  her  smile  broke  forth 
again. 

"  O,  the  lady  must  have  been  so  glad  to  get  to 
heaven !  "  exclaimed  little  Alice. 

"Grandfather,  what  became  of  Mr.  Johnson?"  asked 
Clara. 

"  His  heart  appears  to  have  been  quite  broken,"  an 
swered  Grandfather;  "for  he  died  at  Boston  within  a 
month  after  the  death  of  his  wife.  He  was  buried  in  the 
very  same  tract  of  ground  where  he  had  intended  to  build 
a  dwelling  for  Lady  Arbella  and  himself.  Where  their 
house  would  have  stood,  there  was  his  grave." 

"  I  never  heird  anything  so  melancholy,"  said  Clara. 

11  The  people  loved  and  respected  Mr.  Johnson  so 
much,"  continued  Grandfather,  "  that  it  was  the  last  re 
quest  of  many  of  them,  when  they  died,  that  they  might 


20  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

be  buried  as  near  as  possible  to  this  good  man's  grave. 
And  so  the  field  became  the  first  burial-ground  in  Boston. 
When  you  pass  through  Tremont  Street,  along  by  King's 
Chapel,  you  see  a  burial-ground,  containing  many  old 
grave-stones  and  monuments.  That  was  Mr.  Johnson's 
field." 

"  How  sad  is  the  thought,"  observed  Clara,  "  that  one 
of  the  first  things  which  the  settlers  had  to  do,  when 
they  came  to  the  New, World,  was  to , set  apart  a  burial- 
ground  ! "  C/3  • 

"Perhaps,"  said^brntrettce^'if  they  had  found  no  need 
of  burial-grounds  here,  they  would  have  been  glad,  after 
a  few  years,  to  go  back  to  England."  o  ^Jr- 

Grandfather  looked  at  Lawemre,  to  discover  whether 
he  knew  how  profound  and  true  a  tiling  he  had  said. 


CHAPTER    III. 

OT  long  after  Grandfather  had  told  the  story  of 
his  great  chair,  there  chanced  to  be  a  rainy  day. 
Our  friend  Charley,  after  disturbing  the  house 
hold  with  beat  of  drum  and  riotous  shouts,  races  up  and 
down  the  staircase,  overturning  of  chairs,  and  much 
other  uproar,  began  to  feel  the  quiet  and  confinement 
within  doors  intolerable.  But  as  the  rain  came  down  in 
a  flood,  the  little  fellow  was  hopelessly  a  prisoner,  and 
now  stood  with  sullen  aspect  at  a  window,  wondering 
whether  the  sun  itself  were  not  extinguished  by  so  much 
moisture  in  the  sky. 

Charley  had  already  exhausted  the  less  eager  activity 
of  the  other  children ;  and  they  had  betaken  themselves 
to  occupations  that  did  not  admit  of  his  companionship. 
Laurence  sat  in  a  recess  near  the  bookcase,  reading, 
not  for  the  first  time,  the  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 
Clara  was  making  a  rosary  of  beads  for  a  little  figure  of 
a  Sister  of  Charity,  who  was  to  attend  the  Bunker  Hill 
fair  and  lend  her  aid  in  erecting  the  Monument.  Lit 
tle  Alice  sat  on  Grandfather's  footstool,  with  a  picture- 
book  in  her  hand ;  and,  for  every  picture,  the  child  was 
telling  Grandfather  a  story.  She  did  not  read  from  the 
book  (for  little  Alice  had  not  much  skill  in  reading),  but 
told  the  story  out  of  her  own  heart  and  mind. 


2%  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Charley  was  too  big  a  boy,  of  course,  to  care  anything 
about  little  Alice's  stories,  although  Grandfather  ap 
peared  to  listen  with  a  good  deal  of  interest.  Often,  in 
a  young  child's  ideas  and  fancies,  there  is  something 
which  it  requires  the  thought  of  a  lifetime  to  comprehend. 
But  Charley  was  of  opinion  that,  if  a  story  must  be  told, 
it  had  better  be  told  by  Grandfather  than  little  Alice. 

"  Grandfather,  I  want  to  hear  more  about  your  chair," 
said  he. 

Now,  Grandfather  remembered  that  Charley  Lad  gal 
loped  away  upon  a  stick  in  the  midst  of  the  narrative  of 
poor  Lady  Arbella,  and  I  know  not  whether  he  would 
have  thought  it  worth  while  to  tell  another  story  merely 
to  gratify  such  an  inattentive  auditor  as  Charley.  But 
Laurence  laid  down  his  book  and  seconded  the  request. 
Clara  drew  her  chair  nearer  to  Grandfather;  and  little 
Alice  immediately  closed  her  picture-book  and  looked  up 
into  his  face.  Grandfather  had  not  the  heart  to  disap 
point  them. 

He  mentioned  several  persons  who  had  a  share  in  the 
settlement  of  our  country,  and  who  would  be  well  worthy 
of  remembrance,  if  we  could  find  room  to  tell  about  them 
all.  Among  the  rest,  Grandfather  spoke  of  the  famous 
Hugh  Peters,  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  who  did  much 
good  to  the  inhabitants  of  Salem.  Mr.  Peters  afterwards 
went  back  to  England,  and  was  chaplain  to  Oliver  Crom 
well  ;  but  Grandfather  did  not  tell  the  children  what  be 
came  of  this  upright  and  zealous  man  at  last.  In  feet, 
his  auditors  were  growing  impatient  to  hear  more  about 
the  history  of  the  chair. 

"  After  the  death  of  Mr.  Johnson,"  said  he,  "  Grand 
father's  chair  came  into  the  possession  of  Roger  Wil 
liams.  He  was  a  clergyman,  who  arrived  at  Salem,  and 
settled  there  in  1631.  Doubtless  the  good  man  has  spent 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  23 

many  a  studious  hour  in  this  old  chair,  either  penning  a 
sermon  or  reading  some  abstruse  book  of  theology,  till 
midnight  came  upon  him  unawares.  At  that  period,  as 
there  were  few  lamps  or  candles  to  be  had,  people  used 
to  read  or  work  by  the  light  of  pitch-pine  torches.  These 
supplied  the  place  of  the  '  midnight  oil '  to  the  learned 
men  of  New  England." 

Grandfather  went  on  to  talk  abont  Roger  Williams, 
and  told  the  children  several  particulars,  which  we  have 
not  room  to  repeat.  One  incident,  however,  which  was 
connected  with  his  life,  must  be  related,  because  it  will 
give  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  opinions  and  feelings  of 
the  first  settlers  of  New  England.  It  was  as  follows  :  — 

THE  RED  CROSS. 

While  Roger  Williams  sat  in  Grandfather's  chair  at  his 
humble  residence  in  Salem,  John  Endicott  would  often 
come  to  visit  him.  As  the  clergy  had  great  influence  in 
temporal  concerns,  the  minister  and  magistrate  would 
talk  over  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  and  consult  how 
the  people  might  be  governed  according  to  scriptural 
laws. 

One  thing  especially  troubled  them  both.  In  the  old 
national  banner  of  England,  under  which  her  soldiers 
have  fought  for  hundreds  of  years,  there  is  a  red  cross, 
which  has  been  there  ever  since  the  days  when  England 
was  in  subjection  to  the  pope.  The  cross,  though  a  holy 
symbol,  was  abhorred  by  the  Puritans,  because  they  con 
sidered  it  a  relic  of  Popish  idolatry.  Now,  whenever  the 
trainband  of  Salem  was  mustered,  the  soldiers,  with  En 
dicott  at  their  head,  had  no  other  flag  to  march  under 
than  this  same  old  Papistical  banner  of  England,  with 
the  red  cross  in  the  midst  of  it.  The  banner  of  the  red 


24  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

cross,  likewise,  was  flying  on  tlie  walls  of  the  fort  of 
Salem ;  and  a  similar  one  was  displayed  in  Boston  Har 
bor,  from  the  fortress  on  Castle  Island. 

"  I  profess,  Brother  Williams/'  Captain  Endicott  would 
say,  after  they  had  been  talking  of  this  matter,  lt  it  dis 
tresses  a  Christian  man's  heart  to  see  this  idolatrous 
cross  flying  over  our  heads.  A  stranger,  beholding  it, 
would  think  that  we  had  undergone  all  our  hardships 
and  dangers,  by  sea  and  in  the  wilderness,  only  to  get 
new  dominions  for  the  Pope  of  Rome." 

"  Truly,  good  Mr.  Endicott,"  Roger  Williams  would 
answer,  "you  speak  as  an  honest  man  and  Protestant 
Christian  should.  For  mine  own  part,  were  it  my  busi 
ness  to  draw  a  sword,  I  should  reckon  it  sinful  to  fight 
under  such  a  banner.  Neither  can  I,  in  my  pulpit,  ask 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  it." 

Such,  probably,  was  the  way  in  which  Roger  Williams 
and  John  Endicott  used  to  talk  about  the  banner  of  the 
red  cross.  Endicott,  who  was  a  prompt  and  resolute 
man,  soon  determined  that  Massachusetts,  if  she  could 
not  have  a  banner  of  her  own,  should  at  least  be  deliv 
ered  from  that  of  the  Pope  of  Rome. 

Not  long  afterwards  there  was  a  military  muster  at 
Salem.  Every  able-bodied  man  in  the  town  and  neigh 
borhood  was  there.  All  were  well  armed,  with  steel  caps 
upon  their  heads,  plates  of  iron  upon  their  breasts  and  at 
their  backs,  and  gorgets  of  steel  around  their  necks. 
When  the  sun  shone  upon  these  ranks  of  iron-clad  men, 
they  flashed  and  blazed  with  a  splendor  that  bedazzled 
the  wild  Indians  who  had  come  out  of  the  woods  to  gaze 
at  them.  The  soldiers  had  long  pikes,  swords,  and  mus 
kets,  which  were  fired  with  matches,  and  were  almost  as 
heavy  as  a  small  cannon. 

These  men  had  mostly  a  stern  and  rigid  aspect.     To 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  25 

judge  by  their  looks,  you  might  have  supposed  that  there 
was  as  much  iron  in  their  hearts  as  there  was  upon  their 
heads  and  breasts.  They  were  all  devoted  Puritans,  and 
of  the  same  temper  as  those  with  whom  Oliver  Cromwell 
afterwards  overthrew  the  throne  of  England.  They 
hated  all  the  relics  of  Popish  superstition  as  much  as 
Endicott  himself;  and  yet  over  their  heads  was  displayed 
the  banner  of  the  red  cross. 

Endicott  was  the  captain  of  the  company.  While  the 
soldiers  were  expecting  his  orders  to  begin  their  exercise, 
they  saw  him  take  the  banner  in  one  hand,  holding  his 
drawn  sword  in  the  other.  Probably  he  addressed  them 
in  a  speech,  and  explained  how  horrible  a  thing  it  was, 
that  men,  who  had  fled  from  Popish  idolatry  into  the 
wilderness,  should  be  compelled  to  fight  under  its  sym 
bols  here.  Perhaps  he  concluded  his  address  somewhat 
in  the  following  style  :  — 

"  And  now,  fellow-soldiers,  you  see  this  old  banner  of 
England.  Some  of  you,  I  doubt  not,  may  think  it  trea 
son  for  a  man  to  lay  violent  hands  upon  it.  But  whether 
or  no  it  be  treason  to  man,  I  have  good  assurance  in  my 
conscience  that  it  is  no  treason  to  God.  Wherefore,  I 
have  resolved  that  we  will  rather  be  God's  soldiers  than 
soldiers  of  the  Pope  of  Rome  ;  and  in  that  mind  I  now 
cut  the  Papal  cross  out  of  this  banner." 

And  so  he  did.  And  thus,  in  a  province  belonging  to 
the  crown  of  England,  a  captain  was  found  bold  enough 
to  deface  the  king's  banner  with  his  sword. 

When  Winthrop  and  the  other  wise  men  of  Massachu 
setts  heard  of  it  they  were  disquieted,  being  afraid  that 
Endicott's  act  would  bring  great  trouble  upon  himself 
and  them.  An  account  of  the  matter  was  carried  to 
King  Charles ;  but  he  was  then  so  much  engrossed  by 
dissensions  with  his  people  that  he  had  no  leisure  to 
2 


26  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

punish  tlie  offender.     In  other  times,  it  might  have  cost 
Endicott  his  life,  and  Massachusetts  her  charter. 

"  I  should  like  to  know,  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence, 
when  the  story  was  ended,  "  whether,  when  Endicott  cut 
the  red  cross  out  of  the  banner,  he  meant  to  imply  that 
Massachusetts  was  independent  of  England?" 

"A  sense  of  the  independence  of  his  adopted  country 
must  have  been  in  that  bold  man's  heart,"  answered 
Grandfather ;  "  but  I  doubt  whether  he  had  given  the 
matter  much  consideration  except  in  its  religious  bear 
ing.  However,  it  was  a  very  remarkable  affair,  and  a 
very  strong  expression  of  Puritan  character." 

Grandfather  proceeded  to  speak  further  of  Roger  Wil 
liams  and  of  other  persons  who  sat  in  the  great  chair,  as 
will  be  seen  in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 

)GER  WILLIAMS,"  said  Grandfather,  "did 
not  keep  possession  of  the  chair  a  great  while. 
His  opinions  of  civil  and  religious  matters  dif 
fered,  in  many  respects,  from  those  of  the  rulers  and 
clergymen  of  Massachusetts.  Now,  the  wise  men  of 
those  days  believed  that  the  country  could  not  be  safe 
unless  all  the  inhabitants  thought  and  felt  alike." 

"  Does  any  body  believe  so  in  our  days,  Grandfather  ?  " 
asked  Laurence. 

"  Possibly  there  are  some  who  believe  it,"  said  Grand 
father  ;  "  but  they  have  not  so  much  power  to  act  upon 
their  belief  as  the  magistrates  and  ministers  had  in  the 
days  of  Roger  Williams.  They  had  the  power  to  deprive 
this  good  man  of  his  home,  and  to  send  him  out  from  the 
midst  of  them  in  search  of  a  new  place  of  rest.  He  was 
banished  in  1634,  and  went  first  to  Plymouth  colony ;  but 
as  the  people  there  held  the  same  opinions  as  those  of 
Massachusetts,  he  was  not  suffered  to  remain  among 
them.  However,  the  wilderness  was  wide  enough;  so 
lloger  Williams  took  his  staff  and  travelled  into  the  for 
est  and  made  treaties  with  the  Indians,  and  began  a 
plantation  which  he  called  Providence." 

"  I  have  been  to  Providence  on  the  railroad,"  said 
Charley.  "  It  is  but  a  two-hours'  ride." 


28  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"Yes,  Charley,"  replied  Grandfather;  "but  when 
Roger  Williams  travelled  thither,  over  hills  and  valleys, 
and  through  the  tangled  woods,  and  across  swamps  and 
streams,  it  was  a  journey  of  several  days.  Well,  his  little 
plantation  is  now  grown  to  be  a  populous  city ;  and  the 
inhabitants  have  a  great  veneration  for  Roger  Williams. 
His  name  is  familiar  in  the  mouths  of  all,  because  they 
see  it  on  their  bank-bills.  How  it  would  have  perplexed 
this  good  clergyman  if  he  had  been  told  that  he  should 
give  his  name  to  the  ROGER  WILLIAMS  BANK  !  " 

"  When  he  was  driven  from  Massachusetts,"  said  Lau 
rence,  "  and  began  his  journey  into  the  woods,  he  must 
have  felt  as  if  he  were  burying  himself  forever  from  the 
sight  and  knowledge  of  men.  Yet  the  whole  country  has 
now  heard  of  him,  and  will  remember  him  forever." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Grandfather ;  "  it  often  happens  that 
the  outcasts  of  one  generation  are  those  who  are  rever 
enced  as  the  wisest  and  best  of  men  by  the  next.  The  se 
curest  fame  is  that  which  comes  after  a  man's  death.  But 
let  us  return  to  our  story.  Whe^i  Roger  Williams  was 
banished,  he  appears  to  have  given  the  chair  to  Mrs. 
Anne  Hutchinson.  At  all  events,  it  was  in  her  posses 
sion  in  1637.  She  was  a  very  sharp-witted  and  well-in 
structed  lady,  and  was  so  conscious  of  her  own  wisdom 
and  abilities  that  she  thought  it  a  pity  that  the  world 
should  not  have  the  benefit  of  them.  She  therefore  used 
to  hold  lectures  in  Boston  once  or  twice  a  week,  at  which 
most  of  the  women  attended.  Mrs.  Hutchinson  presided 
at  these  meetings,  sitting  with  great  state  and  dignity  in 
Grandfather's  chair." 

"  Grandfather,  was  it  positively  this  very  chair  r  "  de 
manded  Clara,  laying  her  hand  upon  its  carved  elbow. 

"  Why  not,  my  dear  Clara  ? "  said  Grandfather. 
"  Well,  Mrs.  Hutchinson,' s  lectures  soon  caused  a  great 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  29 

disturbance ;  for  the  ministers  of  Boston  did  not  think  it 
safe  and  proper  that  a  woman  should  publicly  instruct 
the  people  in  religious  doctrines.  Moreover,  she  made 
the  matter  worse  by  declaring  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cotton 
was  the  only  sincerely  pious  and  holy  clergyman  in  New 
England.  Now,  the  clergy  of  those  days  had  quite  as 
much  share  in  the  government  of  the  country,  though 
indirectly,  as  the  magistrates  themselves  ;  so  you  may 
imagine  what  a  host  of  powerful  enemies  were  raised  up 
against  Mrs.  Hutchinson.  A  synod  was  convened ;  that 
is  to  say,  an  assemblage  of  all  the  ministers  in  Massachu 
setts.  They  declared  that  there  were  eighty-two  errone 
ous  opinions  on  religious  subjects  diffused  among  the 
people,  and  that  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  opinions  were  of  the 
number." 

"  If  they  had  eighty-two  wrong  opinions,"  observed 
Charley,  "  I  don't  see  how  they  could  have  any  right 
ones." 

"  Mrs.  Hutchinson  had  many  zealous  friends  and  con 
verts,"  continued  Grandfather.  "  She  was  favored  by 
young  Henry  Vane,  who  had  come  over  from  England  a 
year  or  two  before,  and  had  since  been  chosen  governor 
of  the  colony,  at  the  age  of  twenty-four.  But  Winthrop 
and  most  of  the  other  leading  men,  as  well  as  the  minis 
ters,  felt  an  abhorrence  of  her  doctrines.  Thus  two 
opposite  parties  were  formed ;  and  so  fierce  were  the  dis 
sensions  that  it  was  feared  the  consequence  would  be 
civil  war  and  bloodshed.  But  Winthrop  and  the  minis 
ters  being  the  most  powerful,  they  disarmed  and  impris 
oned  Mrs.  Hutch inson's  adherents.  She,  like  Roger 
Williams,  was  banished." 

"Dear  Grandfather,  did  they  drive  the  poor  woman 
into  the  woods  ?  "  exclaimed  little  Alice,  who  contrived 
to  feel  a  human  interest  even  in  these  discords  of  polemic 
divinity. 


30  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  They  did,  my  darling,"  replied  Grandfather ;  "  and 
the  end  of  her  life  was  so  sad  you  must  not  hear  it.  At 
her  departure,  it  appears,  from  the  best  authorities,  that 
she  gave  the  great  chair  to  her  friend  Henry  Vane.  He 
was  a  young  man  of  wonderful  talents  and  great  learning, 
who  had  imbibed  the  religious  opinions  of  the  Puritans, 
and  left  England  with  the  intention  of  spending  his  life 
in  Massachusetts.  The  people  chose  him  governor  ;  but 
the  controversy  about  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  and  other  troub 
les,  caused  him  to  leave  the  country  in  1637.  You 
may  read  the  subsequent  events  of  his  life  in  the  History 
of  England." 

"  Yes,  Grandfather,"  cried  Laurence ;  "  and  we  may 
read  them  better  in  Mr.  Upham's  Biography  of  Vane. 
And  what  a  beautiful  death  he  died,  long  afterwards  ! 
beautiful,  though  it  was  on  a  scaffold." 

"Many  of  the  most  beautiful  deaths  have  been  there," 
said  Grandfather.  "  The  enemies  of  a  great  and  good 
man  can  in  no  other  way  make  him  so  glorious  as  by 
giving  him  the  crown  of  martyrdom." 

In  order  that  the  children  might  fully  understand  the 
all  -  important  history  of  the  chair,  Grandfather  now 
thought  fit  to  speak  of  the  progress  that  was  made  in 
settling  several  colonies.  The  settlement  of  Plymouth, 
in  1620,  has  already  been  mentioned.  In  1635  Mr. 
Hooker  and  Mr.  Stone,  two  ministers,  went  on  foot 
from  Massachusetts  to  Connecticut,  through  the  pathless 
woods,  taking  their  whole  congregation  along  with  them. 
They  founded  the  town  of  Hartford.  In  1638  Mr.  Dav 
enport,  a  very  celebrated  minister,  went,  with  other  peo 
ple,  and  began  a  plantation  at  New  Haven.  In  the  same 
year,  some  persons  who  had  been  persecuted  in  Massa 
chusetts  went  to  the  Isle  of  Rhodes,  since  called  Rhode 
Island,  and  settled  there.  About  this  time,  also,  many 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  31 

settlers  had  gone  to  Maine,  and  were  living  without  any 
regular  government.  There  were  likewise  settlers  near 
Piscataqua  River,  in  the  region  which  is  now  called  New 
Hampshire. 

Thus,  at  various  points  along  the  coast  of  New  Eng 
land,  there  were  communities  of  Englishmen.  Though 
these  communities  were  independent  of  one  another,  yet 
they  had  a  common  dependence  upon  England  ;  and,  at 
so  vast  a  distance  from  their  native  home,  the  inhabitants 
must  all  have  felt  like  brethren.  They  were  fitted  to 
become  one  united  people  at  a  future  period.  Perhaps 
their  feelings  of  brotherhood  were  the  stronger  because 
different  nations  had  formed  settlements  to  the  north  and 
to  the  south.  In  Canada  and  Nova  Scotia  were  colonies 
of  French.  On  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  River  was  a 
colony  of  Dutch,  who  had  taken  possession  of  that  region 
many  years  before,  and  called  it  New  Netherlands. 

Grandfather,  for  aught  I  know,  might  have  gone  on  to 
speak  of  Maryland  and  Virginia ;  for  the  good  old  gentle 
man  really  seemed  to  suppose  that  the  whole  surface  of 
the  United  States  was  not  too  broad  a  foundation  to  place 
the  four  legs  of  his  chair  upon.  But,  happening  to  glance 
at  Charley,  he  perceived  that  this  naughty  boy  was  grow 
ing  impatient  and  meditating  another  ride  upon  a  stick. 
So  here,  for  the  present,  Grandfather  suspended  the  his 
tory  of  his  chair. 


CHAPTER    V. 

|HE  children  had  now  learned  to  look  upon  the 
chair  with  an  interest  which  was  almost  the 
same  as  if  it  were  a  conscious  being,  and  could 
remember  the  many  famous  people  whom  it  had  held 
within  its  arms. 

Even  Charley,  lawless  as  he  was,  seemed  to  feel  that 
this  venerable  chair  must  not  be  clambered  upon  nor  over 
turned,  although  he  had  no  scruple  in  taking  such  liber 
ties  with  every  other  chair  in  the  house.  Clara  treated 
it  with  still  greater  reverence,  often  taking  occasion  to 
smooth  its  cushion,  and  to  brush  the  dust  from  the 
carved  flowers  and  grotesque  figures  of  its  oaken  back 
and  arms.  Laurence  would  sometimes  sit  a  whole  hour, 
especially  at  twilight,  gazing  at  the  chair,  and,  by  the 
spell  of  his  imaginations,  summoning  up  its  ancient  occu 
pants  to  appear  in  it  again. 

Little  Alice  evidently  employed  herself  in  a  similar 
way  ;  for  once  when  Grandfather  had  gone  abroad,  the 
child  was  heard  talking  with  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella,  as 
if  she  were  still  sitting  in  the  chair.  So  sweet  a  child  as 
little  Alice  may  fitly  talk  with  angels,  such  as  the  Lady 
Arbella  had  long  since  become. 

Grandfather  was  soon  importuned  for  more  sto'ries 
about  the  chair.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  relating  them  ; 
for  it  really  seemed  as  if  every  person  noted  in  our  early 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  33 

history  had,  on  some  occasion  or  other,  found  repose 
within  its  comfortable  arms.  If  Grandfather  took  pride 
in  anything,  it  was  in  being  the  possessor  of  such  an  hon 
orable  and  historic  elbow-chair. 

"I  know  not  precisely  who  next  got  possession  of  the 
chair  after  Governor  Vane  went  back  to  England,"  said 
Grandfather.  "  But  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  Pres 
ident  Dunster  sat  in  it,  when  he  held  the  first  commence 
ment  at  Harvard  College.  You  have  often  heard,  chil 
dren,  how  careful  our  forefathers  were  to  give  their  young 
people  a  good  education.  They  had  scarcely  cut  down 
trees  enough  to  make  room  for  their  own  dwellings  be 
fore  they  began  to  think  of  establishing  a  college.  Their 
principal  object  was,  to  rear  up  pious  and  learned  minis 
ters  ;  and  hence  old  writers  call  Harvard  College  a  school 
of  the  prophets." 

"Is  the  college  a  school  of  the  prophets  now?"  asked 
Charley. 

"  It  is  a  long  while  since  I  took  my  degree,  Charley. 
You  must  ask  some  of  the  recent  graduates,"  answered 
Grandfather.  "  As  I  was  telling  you,  President  Dunster 
sat  in  Grandfather's  chair  in  1642,  when  he  conferred  the 
degree  of  bachelor  of  arts  on  nine  young  men.  They 
were  the  first  in  America  who  had  received  that  honor. 
And  now,  my  dear  auditors,  I  must  confess  that  there  are 
contradictory  statements  and  some  uncertainty  about  the 
adventures  of  the  chair  for  a  period  of  almost  ten  years. 
Someday  that  it  was  occupied  by  your  own  ancestor,  Wil 
liam  Hawthorne,  first  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Repre 
sentatives.  I  have  nearly  satisfied  myself,  however,  that, 
during  most  of  this  questionable  period,  it  was  literally 
the  chair  of  state.  It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  imagine 
that  several  successive  governors  of  Massachusetts  sat  in 
it  at  the  council  board." 

2*  c 


34  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"But,  Grandfather,"  interposed  Charley,  who  was  a 
matter-of-fact  little  person,  "what  reason  have  you  to 
imagine  so  ?  " 

"  Pray  do  imagine  it,  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence. 

"  With  Charley's  permission,  I  will,"  replied  Grand 
father,  smiling.  "  Let  us  consider  it  settled,  therefore, 
that  Winthrop,  Bellingharn,  Dudley,  and  Endicott,  each 
of  them,  when  chosen  governor,  took  his  seat  in  our  great 
chair  on  election  day.  In  this  chair,  likewise,  did  those 
excellent  governors  preside  while  holding  consultations 
with  the  chief  councillors  of  the  province,  who  were 
styled  assistants.  The  governor  sat  in  this  chair,  too, 
whenever  messages  were  brought  to  him  from  the  cham 
ber  of  representatives." 

And  here   Grandfather  took   occasion  to  talk  rather 

tediously  about   the   nature   and   forms   of  government 

that   established    themselves,   almost   spontaneously,   in 

Massachusetts   and   the   other  New  England   colonies. 

Democracies  were  the  natural  growth  of  the  New  World. 

..As  to  Massachusetts,  it  was  at  first  intended  that  the 

,.    oolony  should  be  governed  by  a  council  in  London.     But 

a  little  while  the  people  had  the  whole  power  in  their 

n-  hands,  and  chose  annually  the  governor,  the  coun- 
llors,  and  the  representatives.  The  people  of  Old  Eng 
land  had  never  enjoyed  anything  like  the  liberties  and 
privileges  which  the  settlers  of  New  England  now  pos 
sessed.  And  they  did  not  adopt  these  modes  of  govern 
ment  after  long  study,  but  in  simplicity,  as  if  there  were 
no  other  way  for  people  to  be  ruled. 

"But,  Laurence,"  continued  Grandfather,  "when  you 
want  instruction  on  these  points,  you  must  seek  it  in 
Mr.  Bancroft's  History.  I  am  merely  telling  the  history 
of  a  chair.  To  proceed.  The  period  during  which  the 
governors  sat  in  our  chair  was  not  very  full  of  striking 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  35 

incidents.  The  province  was  now  established  on  a  secure 
foundation ;  but  it  did  not  increase  so  rapidly  as  at  first, 
because  the  Puritans  were  no  longer  driven  from  Eng 
land  by  persecution.  However,  there  was  still  a  quiet 
and  natural  growth.  The  Legislature  incorporated  towns, 
and  made  new  purchases  of  lands  from  the  Indians.  A 
very  memorable  event  took  place  in  1643.  The  colo 
nies  of  Massachusetts,  Plymouth,  Connecticut,  and  New 
Haven  formed  a  union,  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  each 
other  in  difficulties,  for  mutual  defence  against  their 
enemies.  They  called  themselves  the  United  Colonies 
of  New  England." 

"  Were  they  under  a  government  like  that  of  the 
United  States  ?  "  inquired  Laurence. 

"No,"  replied  Grandfather;  "the  different  colonies 
did  not  compose  one  nation  together ;  it  was  merely  a 
confederacy  among  the  governments.  It  somewhat  re 
sembled  the  league  of  the  Amphictyons,  which  you  re 
member  in  Grecian  history.  But  to  return  to  our  chair. 
In  1644  it  was  highly  honored ;  for  Governor  Endicott 
sat  in  it  when  he  gave  audience  to  an  ambassador  from 
the  French  governor  of  Acadia,  or  Nova  Scotia.  A 
^treaty  of  peace  between  Massachusetts  and  the  French 
colony  was  then  signed." 

"  Did  England  allow  Massachusetts  to  make  Avar  and 
peace  with  foreign  countries  ?  "  asked  Laurence. 

"  Massachusetts  and  the  whole  of  New  England  was 
then  almost  independent  of  the  mother  country,"  said 
Grandfather.  "  There  was  now  a  civil  war  in  England  ; 
and  the  king,  as  you  may  well  suppose,  had  his  hands 
full  at  home,  and  could  pay  but  little  attention  to  these 
remote  colonies.  When  the  Parliament  got  the  power 
into  their  hands,  they  likewise  had  enough  to  do  in 
keeping  down  the  Cavaliers.  Thus  New  England,  like 


36  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

a  young  and  Lardy  lad  whose  father  and  mother  neglect 
it,  was  left  to  take  care  of  itself.  In  1646  King  Charles 
was  beheaded.  Oliver  Cromwell  then  became  Protector 
of  England ;  and  as  lie  was  a  Puritan  himself,  and  had 
risen  by  the  valor  of  the  English  Puritans,  he  showed 
himself  a  loving  and  indulgent  father  to  the  Puritan  col 
onies  in  America." 

Grandfather  might  have  continued  to  talk  in  this  dull 
manner  nobody  knows  how  long ;  but  suspecting  that 
Charley  would  find  the  subject  rather  dry,  he  looked 
side  wise  at  that  vivacious  little  fellow,  and  saw  him  give 
an  involuntary  yawn.  Whereupon  Grandfather  pro 
ceeded  with  the  history  of  the  chair,  and  related  a  very 
entertaining  incident,  which  will  be  found  in  the  next 
chapter. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

CCORDING  to  the  most  authentic  records,  my 
dear  children,"  said  Grandfather,  "the  chair, 
about  this  time,  had  the  misfortune  to  break  its 
leg.  It  was  probably  on  account  of  this  accident  that  it 
ceased  to  be  the  seat  of  the  governors  of  Massachusetts  ; 
for,  assuredly,  it  would  have  been  ominous  of  evil  to  the 
commonwealth  if  the  chair  of  state  had  tottered  upon 
three  legs.  Being  therefore  sold  at  auction, — alas! 
what  a  vicissitude  for  a  chair  that  had  figured  in  such 
high  company  !  —  our  venerable  friend  was  knocked 
down  to  a  certain  Captain  John  Hull.  This  old  gentle 
man,  on  carefully  examining  the  maimed  chair,  discov 
ered  that  its  broken  leg  might  be  clamped  with  iron  and 
made  as  serviceable  as  ever." 

"  Here  is  the  very  leg  that  was  broken  !  "  exclaimed 
Charley,  throwing  himself  down  on  the  floor  to  look  at 
it.  "And  here  are  the  iron  clamps.  How  well  it  was 
mended ! " 

When  they  had  all  sufficiently  examined  the  broken 
leg,  Grandfather  told  them  a  story  about  Captain  John 
Hull  and 

THE  PINE-TREE  SHILLINGS. 

The  Captain  John  Hull  aforesaid  was  the  mint-master 
of  Massachusetts,  and  coined  all  the  money  that  was 


38  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

made  there.  This  was  a  new  line  of  business;  for,  in 
the  earlier  days  of  the  colony,  the  current  coinage  con 
sisted  of  gold  and  silver  money  of  England,  Portugal, 
and  Spain.  These  coins  being  scarce,  the  people  were 
often  forced  to  barter  their  commodities  instead  of  selling 
them. 

For  instance,  if  a  man  wanted  to  buy  a  coat,  lie  per 
haps  exchanged  a  bear-skin  for  it.  If  he  wished  for  a 
barrel  of  molasses,  he  might  purchase  it  with  a  pile  of 
pine  boards.  Musket-bullets  were  used  instead  of  far 
things.  The  Indians  had  a  sort  of  money,  called  wam 
pum,  which  was  made  of  clam-shells  ;  and  this  strange 
sort  of  specie  was  likewise  taken  in  payment  of  debts  by 
the  English  settlers.  Bank-bills  had  never  been  heard 
of.  There  was  not  money  enough  of  any  kind,  in  many 
parts  of  the  country,  to  pay  the  salaries  of  the  ministers ; 
so  that  they  sometimes  had  to  take  quintals  of  fish, 
bushels  of  corn,  or  cords  of  wood,  instead  of  silver  or 
gold. 

As  the  people  grew  more  numerous,  and  their  trade 
one  with  another  increased,  the  want  of  current  money 
was  still  more  sensibly  felt.  To  supply  the  demand,  the 
General  Court  passed  a  law  for  establishing  a  coinage  of 
shillings,  sixpences,  and  threepences.  Captain  John  Hull 
was  appointed  to  manufacture  this  money,  and  was  to 
have  about  one  shilling  out  of  every  twenty  to  pay  him 
for  the  trouble  of  making  them. 

Hereupon  all  the  old  silver  in  the  colony  was  handed 
over  to  Captain  John  Hull.  The  battered  silver  cans 
and  tankards,  I  suppose,  and  silver  buckles,  and  broken 
spoons,  and  silver  buttons  of  worn-out  coats,  and  silver 
hilts  of  swords  that  had  figured  at  court,  —  all  such  curi 
ous  old  articles  were  doubtless  thrown  into  the  melting- 
pot  together.  But  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  silver 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  39 

consisted  of  bullion  from  tlie  mines  of  South  America, 
which  the  English  buccaneers  —  who  were  little  better 
than  pirates  —  had  taken  from  the  Spaniards,  and 
brought  to  Massachusetts. 

All  this  old  and  new  silver  being  melted  down  and 
coined,  the  result  was  an  immense  amount  of  splendid 
shillings,  sixpences,  and  threepences.  Each  had  the 
date,  1652,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  figure  of  a  pine- 
tree  on  the  other.  Hence  they  were  called  pine-tree 
shillings.  And  for  every  twenty  shillings  that  he  coined, 
you  will  remember,  Captain  John  Hull  was  entitled  to 
put  one  shilling  into  his  own  pocket. 

The  magistrates  soon  began  to  suspect  that  the  mint- 
master  would  have  the  best  of  the  bargain.  They  offered 
him  a  large  sum  of  money  if  he  would  but  give  up  that 
twentieth  shilling  which  he  was  continually  dropping 
into  his  own  pocket.  But  Captain  Hull  declared  him 
self  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  shilling.  And  well  he 
might  be ;  for  so  diligently  did  he  labor,  that,  in  a  few 
years,  his  pockets,  his  money-bags,  and  his  strong  box 
were  overflowing  with  pine-tree  shillings.  This  was 
probably  the  case  when  he  came  into  possession  of  Grand 
father's  chair ;  and,  as  he  had  worked  so  hard  at  the 
mint,  it  was  certainly  proper  that  he  should  have  a  com 
fortable  chair  to  rest  himself  in. 

When  the  mint-master  had  grown  very  rich,  a  young 
man,  Samuel  Sewell  by  name,  came  a-courting  to  his 
only  daughter.  His  daughter  —  whose  name  I  do  not 
know,  but  we  will  call  her  Betsey  —  was  a  fine,  hearty 
damsel,  by  no  means  so  slender  as  some  young  ladies  of 
our  own  days.  On  the  contrary,  having  always  fed  heart 
ily  on  pumpkin-pies,  doughnuts,  Indian  puddings,  and 
other  Puritan  dainties,  she  was  as  round  and  plump  as 
a  pudding  herself.  With  this  round,  rosy  Miss  Betsey 


40  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

did  Samuel  Sewell  fall  in  love.  As  lie  was  a  young  man 
of  good  character,  industrious  in  bis  business,  and  a  mem 
ber  of  the  church,  the  mint-master  very  readily  gave  his 
consent. 

"  Yes,  you  may  take  her,"  said  he,  in  his  rough  way, 
"  and  you  311  find  her  a  heavy  burden  enough  ! " 

On  the  wedding  day,  we  may  suppose  that  honest 
John  Hull  dressed  himself  in  a  plum-colored  coat,  all  the 
buttons  of  which  were  made  of  pine-tree  shillings.  The 
buttons  of  his  waistcoat  were  sixpences  ;  and  the  knees 
of  his  small-clothes  were  buttoned  with  silver  threepences. 
Thus  attired,  he  sat  with  great  dignity  in  Grandfather's 
chair ;  and,  being  a  portly  old  gentleman,  he  completely 
filled  it  from  elbow  to  elbow.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room,  between  her  bridemaids,  sat  Miss  Betsey. 
She  was  blushing  with  all  her  might,  and  looked  like 
a  full-blown  peony,  or  a  great  red  apple. 

There,  too,  was  the  bridegroom,  dressed  in  a  fine  pur 
ple  coat  and  gold-lace  waistcoat,  with  as  much  other 
finery  as  the  Puritan  laws  and  customs  would  allow  him 
to  put  on.  His  hair  was  cropped  close  to  his  head,  be 
cause  Governor  Endicott  had  forbidden  any  man  to  wear 
it  below  the  ears.  But  he  was  a  very  personable  young 
man;  and  so  thought  the  bridemaids  and  Miss  Betsey 
herself. 

The  mint-master  also  was  pleased  with  his  new  son-in- 
law  ;  especially  as  he  had  courted  Miss  Betsey  out  of 
pure  love,  and  had  said  nothing  at  all  about  her  portion. 
So,  when  the  marriage  ceremony  was  over,  Captain  Hull 
whispered  a  word  to  two  of  his  men-servants,  who  im 
mediately  went  out,  and  soon  returned,  lugging  in  a  large 
pair  of  scales.  They  were  such  a  pair  as  wholesale  mer 
chants  use  for  weighing  bulky  commodities ;  and  quite 
a  bulky  commodity  was  now  to  be  weighed  in  them. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  41 

"  Daughter  Betsey,"  said  the  mint-master,  "  get  into 
one  side  of  these  scales." 

Miss  Betsey  —  or  Mrs.  Sewell,  as  we  must  now  call 
her  —  did  as  she  was  bid,  like  a  dutiful  child,  without 
any  question  of  the  why  and  wherefore.  But  what  her 
father  could  mean,  unless  to  make  her  husband  pay  for  her 
by  the  pound  (in  which  case  she  would  have  been  a  dear 
bargain),  she  had  not  the  least  idea. 

"  And  now,"  said  honest  John  Hull  to  the  servants, 
"  bring  that  box  hither." 

The  box  to  which  the  mint-master  pointed  was  a  huge, 
square,  iron-bound  oaken  chest ;  it  was  big  enough,  my 
children,  for  all  four  of  you  to  play  at  hide-and-seek  in. 
The  servants  tugged  with  might  and  main,  but  could  not 
lift  this  enormous  receptacle,  and  were  finally  obliged  to 
drag  it  across  the  floor.  Captain  Hull  then  took  a  key 
from  his  girdle,  unlocked  the  chest,  and  lifted  its  ponder 
ous  lid.  Behold  !  it  was  full  to  the  brim  of  bright  pine- 
tree  shillings,  fresh  from  the  mint ;  and  Samuel  Sewell 
began  to  think  that  his  father-in-law  had  got  possession 
of  all  the  money  in  the  Massachusetts  treasury.  But 
it  was  only  the  mint-master's  honest  share  of  the  coin 
age 

Then  the  servants,  at  Captain  Hull's  command,  heaped 
double  handfuls  of  shillings  into  one  side  of  the  scales, 
while  Betsey  remained  in  the  other.  Jingle,  jingle,  went 
the  shillings,  as  handful  after  handful  was  thrown  in,  till, 
plump  and  ponderous  as  she  was,  they  fairly  weighed  the 
young  lady  from  the  floor. 

"  There,  son  Sewell ! "  cried  the  honest  mint-master, 
resuming  his  seat  in  Grandfather's  chair,  "  take  these 
shillings  for  my  daughter's  portion.  Use  her  kindly, 
and  thank  Heaven  for  her.  It  is  not  every  wife  that 's 
worth  her  weight  in  silver  ! " 


42  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

The  children  laughed  heartily  at  this  legend,  and 
would  hardly  be  convinced  but  that  Grandfather  had 
made  it  out  of  his  own  head.  He  assured  them  faith 
fully,  however,  that  he  had  found  it  in  the  pages  of  a 
grave  historian,  and  had  merely  tried  to  tell  it  in  a  some 
what  funnier  style.  As  for  Samuel  Sewell,  he  after 
wards  became  chief  justice  of  Massachusetts. 

"  Well,  Grandfather,"  remarked  Clara,  "  if  wedding 
portions  nowadays  were  paid  as  Miss  Betsey's  was,  young 
ladies  would  not  pride  themselves  upon  an  airy  figure,  as 
many  of  them  do." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HEN  his  little  audience  next  assembled  round 
the  chair,  Grandfather  gave  them  a  doleful  his- 

tory  of  the  Quaker  persecution,  which  began 

in  1656,  and  raged  for  about  three  years  in  Massachu 
setts. 

He  told  them  how,  in  the  first  place,  twelve  of  the  con 
verts  of  George  Fox,  the  first  Quaker  in  the  world,  had 
come  over  from  England.  They  seemed  to  be  impelled 
by  an  earnest  love  for  the  souls  of  men,  and  a  pure  de 
sire  to  make  known  what  they  considered  a  revelation 
from  Heaven.  But  the  rulers  looked  upon  them  as  plot 
ting  the  downfall  of  all  government  and  religion.  They 
were  banished  from  the  colony.  In  a  little  while,  how 
ever,  not  only  the  first  twelve  had  returned,  but  a  multi 
tude  of  other  Quakers  had  come  to  rebuke  the  rulers  and 
to  preach  against  the  priests  and  steeple-houses. 

Grandfather  described  the  hatred  and  scorn  with  which 
these  enthusiasts  were  received.  They  were  thrown  into 
dungeons  ;  they  were  beaten  with  many  stripes,  women 
as  well  as  men ;  they  were  driven  forth  into  the  wilder 
ness,  and  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  wild  beasts  and 
Indians.  The  children  were  amazed  to  hear  that  the 
more  the  Quakers  were  scourged,  and  imprisoned,  and 
banished,  the  more  did  the  sect  increase,  both  by  the 


44  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

influx  of  strangers  and  by  converts  from  among  the 
Puritans.  But  Grandfather  told  them  that  God  had  put 
something  into  the  soul  of  man,  which  always  turned  the 
cruelties  of  the  persecutor  to  nought. 

He  went  on  to  relate,  that,  in  1659,  two  Quakers, 
named  William  Robinson  and  Marmaduke  Stephenson, 
were  hanged  at  Boston.  A  woman  had  been  sentenced 
to  die  with  them,  but  was  reprieved  on  condition  of  her 
leaving  the  colony.  Her  name  was  Mary  Dyer.  In  the 
year  1660  she  returned  to  Boston,  although  she  knew 
death  awaited  her  there;  and,  if  Grandfather  had  been 
correctly  informed,  an  incident  had  then  taken  place 
which  connects  her  with  our  story.  This  Mary  Dyer 
had  entered  the  mint-master's  dwelling,  clothed  in  sack 
cloth  and  ashes,  and  seated  herself  in  our  great  chair  with 
a  sort  of  dignity  and  state.  Then  she  proceeded  to  de 
liver  what  she  called  a  message  from  Heaven ;  but  in  the 
midst  of  it  they  dragged  her  to  prison. 

"  And  was  she  executed  ?  "  asked  Laurence. 

"  She  was,"  said  Grandfather. 

"  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  clinching  his  fist,  "  I 
would  have  fought  for  that  poor  Quaker  woman  !  " 

"  Ah,  but  if  a  sword  had  been  drawn  for  her,"  said 
Laurence,  "  it  would  have  taken  away  all  the  beauty  of 
her  death." 

It  seemed  as  if  hardly  any  of  the  preceding  stories  had 
thrown  such  an  interest  around  Grandfather's  chair  as 
did  the  fact  that  the  poor,  persecuted,  wandering  Quaker 
woman  had  rested  in  it  for  a  moment.  The  children 
were  so  much  excited  that  Grandfather  found  it  necessary 
to  bring  his  account  of  the  persecution  to  a  close. 

"In  1660,  the  same  year  in  which  Mary  Dyer  was 
executed,"  said  he,  "Charles  II.  was  restored  to  the 
throne  of  his  fathers.  This  king  had  many  vices ;  but  he 


(P 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  45 

would  not  permit  blood  to  be  shed,  under  pretence  of 
religion,  in  any  part  of  his  dominions.  The  Quakers  in 
England  told  him  what  had  been  done  to  their  brethren 
in  Massachusetts ;  and  he  sent  orders  to  Governor  Endi- 
cott  to  forbear  all  such  proceedings  in  future.  And  so 
ended  the  Quaker  persecution,  —  one  of  the  most  mourn 
ful  passages  in  the  history  of  our  forefathers." 

Grandfather  then  told  his  auditors,  that,  shortly  after 
the  above  incident,  the  great  chair  had  been  given  by  the 
mint-master  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Eliot.  He  was  the 
first  minister  of  Roxbury.  But  besides  attending  to  his 
pastoral  duties  there,  he  learned  the  language  of  the  red 
men,  and  often  went  into  the  woods  to  preach  to  them. 
So  earnestly  did  he  labor  for  their  conversion  that  he  has 
always  been  called  the  apostle  to  the  Indians.  The  men 
tion  of  this  holy  man  suggested  to  Grandfather  the  pro 
priety  of  giving  a  brief  sketch  of  the  history  of  the  In 
dians,  so  far  as  they  were  connected  wth  the  English 
colonists. 

A  short  period  before  the  arrival  of  the  first  Pilgrims 
at  Plymouth  there  had  been  a  very  grievous  plague 
among  the  red  men ;  and  the  sages  and  ministers  of  that- 
day  were  inclined  to  the  opinion  that  Providence  had 
sent  this  mortality  in  order  to  make  room  for  the  settle 
ment  of  the  English.  But  I  know  not  why  we  should 
suppose  that  an  Indian's  life  is  less  precious,  in  the  eye 
of  Heaven,  than  that  of  a  white  man.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  death  had  certainly  been  very  busy  with  the  savage 
tribes. 

In  many  places  the  English  found  the  wigwams  de 
serted  and  the  cornfields  growing  to  waste,  with  none  to 
harvest  the  grain.  There  were  heaps  of  earth  also, 
which,  being  dug  open,  proved  to  be  Indian  graves,  con 
taining  bows  and  flint-headed  spears  and  arrows ;  for  the 


46  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Indians  buried  the  dead  warrior's  weapons  along  with 
him.  In  some  spots  there  were  skulls  and  other  human 
bones  lying  unburied.  In  1633,  and  the  year  afterwards, 
the  small-pox  broke  out  among  the  Massachusetts  In 
dians,  multitudes  of  whom  died  by  this  terrible  disease  of 
the  Old  World.  These  misfortunes  made  them  far  less 
powerful  than  they  had  formerly  been. 

For  nearly  half  a  century  after  the  arrival  of  the  Eng 
lish  the  red  men  showed  themselves  generally  inclined  to 
peace  and  amity.  They  ofien  made  submission  when 
they  might  have  made  successful  war.  The  Plymouth 
settlers,  led  by  the  famous  Captain  Miles  Standish,  slew 
some  of  them,  in  1623,  without  any  very  evident  neces 
sity  for  so  doing.  In  1636,  and  the  following  year,  there 
was  the  most  dreadful  war  that  had  yet  occurred  between 
the  Indians  and  the  English.  The  Connecticut  settlers, 
assisted  by  a  celebrated  Indian  chief  named  Uncas,  bore 
the  brunt  of  this  war,  with  but  little  aid  from  Massachu 
setts.  Many  hundreds  of  the  hostile  Indians  were  slain 
or  burned  in  their  wigwams.  Sassacus,  their  sachem,  fled 
to  another  tribe,  after  his  own  people  were  defeated ;  but 
he  was  murdered  by  them,  and  his  head  was  sent  to  his 
English  enemies. 

Erom  that  period  down  to  the  time  of  King  Philip's 
War,  which  will  be  mentioned  hereafter,  there  was  not 
much  trouble  with  the  Indians.  But  the  colonists  were 
always  on  their  guard,  and  kept  their  weapons  ready  for 
the  conflict. 

"  I  have  sometimes  doubted,"  said  Grandfather,  when  he 
had  told  these  things  to  the  children,  —  "  I  have  sometimes 
doubted  whether  there  was  more  than  a  single  man,  among 
our  forefathers,  who  realized  that  an  Indian  possesses  a 
mind,  and  a  heart,  and  an  immortal  soul.  That  single 
man  was  John  Eliot.  All  the  rest  of  the  early  settlers 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  47 

seemed  to  think  that  the  Indians  were  an  inferior  race  of 
beings,  whom  the  Creator  had  merely  allowed  to  keep 
possession  of  this  beautiful  country  till  the  white  men 
shoud  be  in  want  of  it." 

"  Did  the  pious  men  of  those  days  never  try  to  make 
Christians  of  them  ?  "  asked  Laurence. 

"  Sometimes,  it  is  true,"  answered  Grandfather,  "  the 
magistrates  and  ministers  would  talk  about  civilizing  and 
converting  the  red  people.  But,  at  the  bottom  of  their 
hearts,  they  would  have  had  almost  as  much  expectation 
of  civilizing  the  wild  bear  of  the  woods  and  making  him 
fit  for  paradise.  They  felt  no  faith  in  the  success  of  any 
such  attempts,  because  they  had  no  love  for  the  poor 
Indians.  Now,  Eliot  was  full  of  love  for  them  ;  and 
therefore  so  full  of  faith  and  hope  that  he  spent  the  la 
bor  of  a  lifetime  in  their  behalf." 

"  I  would  have  conquered  them  first,  and  then  con 
verted  them,"  said  Charley. 

"  Ah,  Charley,  there  spoke  the  very  spirit  of  our  fore 
fathers  !"  replied  Grandfather.  "But  Mr.  Eliot  had  a 
better  spirit.  He  looked  upon  them  as  his  brethren. 
He  persuaded  as  many  of  them  as  he  could  to  leave  off 
their  idle  and  wandering  habits,  and  to  build  houses  arid 
cultivate  the  earth,, as  the  English  did.  He  established 
schools  among  them  and  taught  many  of  the  Indians 
how  to  read.  He  taught  them,  likewise,  how  to  pray. 
Hence  they  were  called  ( praying  Indians.5  Finally,  hav 
ing  spent  the  best  years  of  his  life  for  their  good,  Mr. 
Eliot  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  in  doing  them  a 
yet  greater  benefit." 

"  I  know  what  that  was  !  "  cried  Laurence. 

"  He  sat  down  in  his  study,"  continued  Grandfather, 
"and  began  a  translation  of  the  Bible  into  the  Indian 
tongue.  It  was  while  he  was  engaged  in  this  pious 


48 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


work  that  the  mint-master  gave  him  our  great  chair. 
His  toil  needed  it  and  deserved  it." 

"  O  Grandfather,  tell  us  all  about  that  Indian  Bible  !  " 
exclaimed  Laurence.  "I  have  seen  it  in  the  library  of 
the  Athenaeum;  and  the  tears  came  into  my  eyes  to 
think  that  there  were  no  Indians  left  to  read  it." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

|S  Grandfather  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  apostle 
Eliot,  he  was  glad  to  comply  with  the  earnest 

request  which  Laurence  had  made  at  the  close 

of  the  last  chapter.     So  he  proceeded  to  describe  how 
good  Mr.  Eliot  labored,  while  he  was  at  work  upon. 

THE  INDIAN  BIBLE. 

My  dear  children,  what  a  task  would  you  think  it, 
even  with  a  long  lifetime  before  you,  were  you  bidden  to 
copy  every  chapter,  and  verse,  and  word  in  yonder  family 
Bible !  Would  not  this  be  a  heavy  toil  ?  But  if  the 
task  were,  not  to  write  off  the  English  Bible,  but  to 
learn  a  language  utterly  unlike  all  other  tongues,  —  a 
language  which  hitherto  had  never  been  learned,  except 
by  the  Indians  themselves,  from  their  mothers'  lips,  — 
a  language  never  written,  and  the  strange  words  of 
which  seemed  inexpressible  by  letters,  —  if  the  task  were, 
first  to  learn  this  new  variety  of  speech,  and  then  to 
translate  the  Bible  into  it,  and  to  do  it  so  carefully  that 
not  one  idea  throughout  the  holy  book  should  be  changed, 
—  what  would  induce  you  to  undertake  this  toil  ?  Yet 
this  was  what  the  apostle  Eliot  did. 

It  was  a  mighty  work  for  a  man,  now  growing  old,  to 

3  D 


50  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

take  upon  himself.  And  what  earthly  reward  could  he 
expect  from  it  ?  None ;  no  reward  on  earth.  But  he 
believed  that  the  red  men  were  the  descendants  of  those 
lost  tribes  of  Israel  of  whom  history  has  been  able  to 
tell  us  nothing  for  thousands  of  years.  He  hoped  that 
God  had  sent  the  English  across  the  ocean,  Gentiles  as 
they  were,  to  enlighten  this  benighted  portion  of  his 
once  chosen  race.  And  when  he  should  be  summoned 
hence,  he  trusted  to  meet  blessed  spirits  in  another  world, 
whose  bliss  would  have  been  earned  by  his  patient  toil  in 
translating  the  word  of  God.  This  hope  and  trust  were 
far  dearer  to  him  than  anything  that  earth  could  offer. 

Sometimes,  while  thus  at  work,  he  was  visited  by 
learned  men,  who  desired  to  know  what  literary  under 
taking  Mr.  Eliot  had  in  hand.  They,  like  himsvelf,  had 
been  bred  in  the  studious  cloisters  of  a  university,  and 
were  supposed  to  possess  all  the  erudition  which  man 
kind  has  hoarded  up  from  age  to  age.  Greek  and  Latin 
were  as  familiar  to  them  as  the  babble  of  their  childhood. 
Hebrew  was  like  their  mother  tongue.  They  had  grown 
gray  in  study  ;  their  eyes  were  bleared  with  poring  over 
print  and  manuscript  by  the  light  of  the  midnight  lamp. 

And  yet,  how  much  had  they  left  unlearned !  Mr. 
Eliot  would  put  into  their  hands  some  of  the  pages 
which  he  had  been  writing  ;  and  behold  !  the  gray-headed 
men  stammered  over  the  long,  strange  words,  like  a  little 
child  in  his  first  attempts  to  read.  Then  would  the 
apostle  call  to  him  an  Indian  boy,  one  of  his  scholars, 
and  show  him  the  manuscript  which  had  so  puzzled  the 
learned  Englishmen. 

"Read  this,  my  child,"  said  he;  "these  are  some 
brethren  of  mine,  who  would  fain  hear  the  sound  of  thy 
native  tongue." 

Then  would  the  Indian  boy  cast  his  eyes  over  the 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  51 

mysterious  page,  and  read  it  so  skilfully  that  it  sounded 
like  wild  music.  It  seemed  as  if  the  forest  leaves  were 
singing  in  the  ears  of  his  auditors,  and  as  if  the  roar  of 
distant  streams  were  poured  through  the  young  Indian's 
voice.  Such  were  the  sounds  amid  which  the  language 
of  the  red  man  had  been  formed;  and  they  were  still 
heard  to  echo  in  it. 

The  lesson  being  over,  Mr.  Eliot  would  give  the  In 
dian  boy  an  apple  or  a  cake,  and  bid  him  leap  forth  into 
the  open  air  which  his  free  nature  loved.  The  apostle 
was  kind  to  children,  and  even  shared  in  their  sports 
sometimes.  And  when  his  visitors  had  bidden  him  fare 
well,  the  good  man  turned  patiently  to  his  toil  again. 

No  other  Englishman  had  ever  understood  the  Indian 
character  so  well,  nor  possessed  so  great  an  influence 
over  the  New  England  tribes,  as  the  apostle  did.  His 
advice  and  assistance  must  often  have  been  valuable  to 
his  countrymen  in  their  transactions  with  the  Indians. 
Occasionally,  perhaps,  the  governor  and  some  of  the 
councillors  came  to  visit  Mr.  Eliot.  Perchance  they  were 
seek'ni*  some  method  to  circumvent  the  forest  people. 
They  >.>€fmred,  it  may  be,  how  they  could  obtain  posses 
sion  of  such  and  such  a  tract  of  their  rich  land.  Or 
they  talked  of  making  the  Indians  their  servants ;  as  if 
Godf*lmd  destined  them  for  perpetual  bondage  to  the 
more  powerful  white  man. 

Perhaps,  too,  some  warlike  captain,  dressed  in  his  buff 
coat,  with  a  corslet  beneath  it,  accompanied  the  gov 
ernor  and  councillors.  Laying  his  hand  upon  his  sword 
hilt,  he  would  declare,  that  the  only  method  of  dealing 
with  the  red  men  was  to  meet  them  with  the  sword  drawn 
and  the  musket  presented. 

But  the  apostle  resisted  both  the  craft  of  the  politician 
and  the  fierceness  of  the  warrior. 


5£  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  Treat  these  sons  of  the  forest  as  men  and  brethren," 
he  would  say ;  "  and  let  us  endeavor  to  make  them 
Christians.  Their  forefathers  were  of  that  chosen  race 
whom  God  delivered  from  Egyptian  bondage.  Perchance 
he  has  destined  us  to  deliver  the  children  from  the 
more  cruel  bondage  of  ignorance  and  idolatry.  Chiefly 
for  this  end,  it  may  be,  we  were  directed  across  the 
ocean." 

When  these  other  visitors  were  gone,  Mr.  Eliot  bent 
himself  again  over  the  half-written  page.  He  dared 
hardly  relax  a  moment  from  his  toil.  He  felt  that,  in 
the  book  which  he  was  translating,  there  was  a  deep  hu 
man  as  well  as  heavenly  wisdom,  which  would  of  itself 
suffice  to  civilize  and  refine  the  savage  tribes.  Let  the 
Bible  be  diffused  among  them,  and  all  earthly  good  would 
follow.  But  how  slight  a  consideration  was  this,  when 
he  reflected  that  the  eternal  welfare  of  a  whole  race  of 
men  depended  upon  his  accomplishment  of  the  task  which 
he  had  set  himself!  What  if  his  hands  should  be  pal 
sied  ?  What  if  his  mind  should  lose  its  vigor  ?  What 
if  death  should  come  upon  him  ere  the  work  were  done  ? 
Then  must  the  red  man  wander  in  the  dark  wilderness  of 
heathenism  forever. 

Impelled  by  such  thoughts  as  these,  he  sat  writing  in 
the  great  chair  when  the  pleasant  summer  breeze  came  in 
through  his  open  casement ;  and  also  when  the  fire  of 
forest  logs  sent  up  its  blaze  and  smoke,  through  the  broad 
stone  chimney,  into  the  wintry  air.  Before  the  earliest 
bird  sang  in  the  morning  the  apostle's  lamp  was  kindled  ; 
and,  at  midnight,  his  weary  head  was  not  yet  upon  its 
pillow.  And  at  length,  leaning  back  in  the  great  chair, 
lie  could  say  to  himself,  with  a  holy  triumph,  "  The  work 
is  finished  ! " 

It  was  finished.     Here  was  a  Bible  for  the  Indians. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  53 

Those  long-lost  descendants  of  the  ten  tribes  of  Israel 
would  now  learn  the  history  of  their  forefathers.  That 
grace  which  the  ancient  Israelites  had  forfeited  was  of 
fered  anew  to  their  children. 

There  is  no  impiety  in  believing  that,  when,  his  long 
life  was  over,  the  apostle  of  the  Indians  was  welcomed 
to  the  celestial  abodes  by  the  prophets  of  ancient  days 
and  by  those  earliest  apostles  and  evangelists  who  had 
drawn  their  inspiration  from  the  immediate  presence  of 
the  Saviour.  They  first  had  preached  truth  and  salvation 
to  the  world.  And  Eliot,  separated  from  them  by  many 
centuries,  yet  full  of  the  same  spirit,  had  borne  the  like 
message  to  the  New  World  of  the  west.  Since  the  first 
days  of  Christianity,  there  has  been  no  man  more  worthy 
to  be  numbered  in  the  brotherhood  of  the  apostles  than 
Eliot. 

"  My  heart  is  not  satisfied  to  think,"  observed  Lau 
rence,  "  that  Mr.  Eliot's  labors  have  done  no  good  except 
to  a  few  Indians  of  his  own  time.  Doubtless  he  would 
not  have  regretted  his  toil,  if  it  were  the  means  of  sav 
ing  but  a  single  soul.  But  it  is  a  grievous  thing  to  me 
that  he  should  have  toiled  so  hard  to  translate  the  Bible, 
and  now  the  language  and  the  people  are  gone !  The 
Indian  Bible  itself  is  almost  the  only  relic  of  both." 

"Laurence,"  said  his  Grandfather,  "if  ever  you  should 
doubt  that  man  is  capable  of  disinterested  zeal  for  his 
brother's  good,  then  remember  how  the  apostle  Eliot 
toiled.  And  if  you  should  feel  your  own  self-interest 
pressing  upon  your  heart  too  closely,  then  think  of 
Eliot's  Indian  Bible.  It  is  good  for  the  world  that  such 
a  man  has  lived  and  left  this  emblem  of  his  life." 

The  tears  gushed  into  the  eyes  of  Laurence,  and  he 
acknowledged  that  Eliot  had  not  toiled  in  vain.  Little 


54  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Alice  put  up  her  arms  to  Grandfather,  and  drew  down 
his  white  head  beside  her  own  golden  locks. 

"  Grandfather,"  whispered  she,  "  1  want  to  kiss  good 
Mr.  Eliot ! " 

And,  doubtless,  good  Mr.  Eliot  would  gladly  receive 
the  kiss  of  so  sweet  a  child  as  little  Alice,  and  would 
think  it  a  portion  of  his  reward  in  heaven. 

Grandfather  now  observed  that  Dr.  Erancis  had  writ 
ten  a  very  beautiful  Life  of  Eliot,  which  he  advised  Lau 
rence  to  peruse.  He  then  spoke  of  King  Philip's  War, 
which  began  in  1675,  and  terminated  with  the  death  of 
King  Philip,  in  the  following  year.  Philip  was  a  proud, 
fierce  Indian,  whom  Mr.  Eliot  had  vainly  endeavored  to 
convert  to  the  Christian  faith. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  great  anguish  to  the  apostle,3* 
continued  Grandfather,  "  to  hear  of  mutual  slaughter 
and  outrage  between  his  own  countrymen  and  those  for 
whom  he  felt  the  affection  of  a  father.  A  few  of  the 
praying  Indians  joined  the  followers  of  King  Philip.  A 
greater  number  fought  on  the  side  of  the  English.  In 
the  course  of  the  war  the  little  community  of  red  people 
whom  Mr.  Eliot  had  begun  to  civilize  was  scattered,  and 
probably  never  was  restored  to  a  flourishing  condition. 
But  his  zeal  did  not  grow  cold;  and  only  about  five 
years  before  his  death  he  took  great  pains  in  preparing  a 
new  edition  of  the  Indian  Bible." 

"  I  do  wish,  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  "  you  would 
tell  us  all  about  the  battles  in  King  Philip's  War." 

"  O  no  !  "  exclaimed  Clara.  "  Who  wants  to  hear  about 
tomahawks  and  scalping-knives  ?  " 

"  No,  Charley,"  replied  Grandfather,  "  I  have  no  time 
to  spare  in  talking  about  battles.  You  must  be  content 
with  knowing  that  it  was  the  bloodiest  war  that  the  In 
dians  had  ever  waged  against  the  white  men ;  and  that, 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


55 


at  its  close,  the  English  set  King  Philip's  head  upon 
a  pole." 

"  Who  was  the  captain  of  the  English  ?  "  asked  Char 
ley. 

"Their  most  noted  captain  was  Benjamin  Church, — 
a  very  famous  warrior,"  said  Grandfather.  "  But  I  assure 
you,  Charley,  that  neither  Captain  Church,  nor  any  of 
Ih 3  officers  and  soldiers  who  fought  in  King  Philip's  War, 
did  anything  a  thousandth  part  so  glorious  as  Mr.  Eliot 
did  when  he  translated  the  Bible  for  the  Indians." 

"  Let  Laurence  be  the  apostle,"  said  Charley  to  him 
self,  "and  I  will  be  the  captain." 


CHAPTER    IX. 

HE  children  were  now  accustomed  to  assemble 
round  Grandfather's  chair  at  all  their  unoccu 
pied  moments ;  and  often  it  was  a  striking  pic 
ture  to  behold  the  white-headed  old  sire,  with  this  flowery 
wreath  of  young  people  around  him.  When  he  talked 
to  them,  it  was  the  past  speaking  to  the  present,  or 
rather  to  the  future,  —  for  the  children  were  of  a  gen 
eration  which  had  not  become  actual.  Their  part  in  life, 
thus  far,  was  only  to  be  happy  and  to  draw  knowledge 
from  a  thousand  sources.  As  yet,  it  was  not  their  time 
to  do. 

Sometimes,  as  Grandfather  gazed  at  their  fair,  un 
worldly  countenances,  a  mist  of  tears  bedimmed  his 
spectacles.  He  almost  regretted  that  it  was  necessary 
for  them  to  know  anything  of  the  past  or  to  provide 
aught  for  the  future.  He  could  have  wished  that  they 
might  be  always  the  happy,  youthful  creatures  who 
had  hitherto  sported  around  his  chair,  without  inquiring 
whether  it  had  a  history.  It  grieved  him  to  think  that 
his  little  Alice,  who  was  a  flower  bud  fresh  from  para 
dise,  must  open  her  leaves  to  the  rough  breezes  of  the 
world,  or  ever  open  them  in  any  clime.  So  sweet  a  child 
she  was,  that  it  seemed  fit  her  infancy  should  be  im 
mortal. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  57 

But  such  repinings  were  merely  flitting  shadows  across 
the  old  man's  heart.  He  had  faith  enough  to  believe, 
and  wisdom. enough  to  know,  that  the  bloom  of  the  flower 
would  be  even  holier  and  happier  than  its  bud.  Even 
within  himself  (though  Grandfather  was  now  at  that 
period  of  life  when  the  veil  of  mortality  is  apt  to  hang 
heavily  over  the  soul,;  still,  in  his  inmost  being  he  was 
conscious  of  something  that  he  would  not  have  exchanged 
for  the  best  happiness  of  childhood.  It  was  a  bliss  to 
which  every  sort  of  earthly  experience  —  all  that  he  had 
enjoyed,  or  suffered,  or  seen,  or  heard,  or  acted,  with  the 
breedings  of  his  soul  upon  the  whole  —  had  contributed 
somewhat.  In  the  same  manner  must  a  bliss,  of  which 
now  they  could  have  no  conception,  grow  up  within  these 
children,  and  form  a  part  of  their  sustenance  for  immor 
tality. 

So  Grandfather,  with  renewed  cheerfulness,  continued 
his  history  of  the  chair,  trusting  that  a  profounder  wis 
dom  than  his  own  would  extract,  from  these  flowers  and 
weeds  of  Time,  a  fragrance  that  might  last  beyond  all 
time. 

At  this  period  of  the  story  Grandfather  threw  a  glance 
backward  as  far  as  the  year  1660.  He  spoke  of  the  ill- 
concealed  reluctance  with  which  the  Puritans  in  America 
had  acknowledged  the  sway  of  Charles  II.  on  his  restora 
tion  to  his  father's  throne.  When  death  had  stricken 
Oliver  Cromwell,  that  mighty  protector  had  no  sincerer 
mourners  than  in  New  England.  The  new  king  had 
been  more  than  a  year  upon  the  throne  before  his  acces 
sion  was  proclaimed  in  Boston ;  although  the  neglect  to 
perform  the  ceremony  might  have  subjected  the  rulers  to 
the  charge  of  treason. 

During  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  however,  the  Ameri 
can  colonies  had  but  little  reason  to  complain  of  harsh  or 
3* 


58  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

tyrannical  treatment.  But  when  Charles  died,  in  1685, 
and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  James,  the  patriarchs 
of  New  England  began  to  tremble.  King  James  was  a 
bigoted  lioman  Catholic,  and  was  known  to  be  of  an  ar 
bitrary  temper.  It  was  feared  by  all  Protestants,  and 
chiefly  by  the  Puritans,  that  he  would  assume  despotic 
power  and  attempt  to  establish  Popery  throughout  his 
dominions.  Our  forefathers  felt  that  they  had  no  security 
either  for  their  religion  or  their  liberties. 

The  result  proved  that  they  had  reason  for  their  appre 
hensions.  King  James  caused  the  charters  of  all  the 
American  colonies  to  be  taken  away.  The  old  charter  of 
Massachusetts,  which  the  people  regarded  as  a  holy  thing 
and  as  the  foundation  of  all  their  liberties,  was  declared 
void.  The  colonists  were  now  no  longer  freemen  ;  they 
were  entirely  dependent  on  the  king's  pleasure.  At  first,  in 
1685,  King  James  appointed  Joseph  Dudley,  a  native  of 
Massachusetts,  to  be  president  of  New  England.  But 
soon  afterwards  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  an  officer  of  the 
English  army,  arrived,  with  a  commission  to  be  governor- 
general  of  New  England  and  New  York. 

The  king  had  given  such  powers  to  Sir  Edmund  Andros 
that  there  was  now  no  liberty,  nor  scarcely  any  law,  in 
the  colonies  over  which  he  ruled.  The  inhabitants  were 
not  allowed  to  choose  representatives,  and  consequently 
had  no  voice  whatever  in  the  government,  nor  control 
over  the  measures  that  were  adopted.  The  councillors 
with  whom  the  governor  consulted  on  matters  of  state 
were  appointed  by  himself.  This  sort  of  government 
was  no  better  than  an  absolute  despotism. 

"  The  people  suffered  much  wrong  while  Sir  Edmund 
Andros  ruled  over  them,"  continued  Grandfather;  "and 
they  were  apprehensive  of  much  more.  He  had  brought 
some  soldiers  with  him  from  England,  who  took  posses- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  59 

sion  of  the  old  fortress  on  Castle  Island  and  of  the  fortifi 
cation  on  Fort  Hill.  Sometimes  it  was  rumored  that  a 
general  massacre  of  the  inhabitants  was  to  be  perpetrated 
by  these  soldiers.  There  were  reports,  too,  that  all  the 
ministers  were  to  be  slain  or  imprisoned." 

"  For  what  ?  "  inquired  Charley. 

"  Because  they  were  the  leaders  of  the  people,  Char 
ley,"  said  Grandfather.  "  A  minister  was  a  more  formida 
ble  man  than  a  general  in  those  days.  Well,  while  these 
things  were  going  on  in  America,  King  James  had  so 
misgoverned  the  people  of  England  that  they  sent  over 
to  Holland  for  the  Prince  of  Orange.  He  had  married 
the  king's  daughter,  and  was  therefore  considered  to 
have  a  claim  to  the  crown.  On  his  arrival  in  England, 
the  Prince  of  Orange  was  proclaimed  king,  by  the  name 
of  William  III.  Poor  old  King  James  made  his  escape 
to  France." 

Grandfather  told  how,  at  the  first  intelligence  of  the 
landing  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  in  England,  the  people 
of  Massachusetts  rose  in  their  strength  and  overthrew 
the  government  of  Sir  Edmund  Andros.  He,  with 
Joseph  Dudley,  Edmund  Randolph,  and  his  other  princi 
pal  adherents,  was  thrown  into  prison.  Old  Simon 
Bradstreet,  who  had  been  governor  when  King  James 
took  away  the  charter,  was  called  by  the  people  to  gov 
ern  them  again. 

"  Governor  Bradstreet  was  a  venerable  old  man,  nearly 
ninety  years  of  age,"  said  Grandfather.  "  He  came  over 
with  the  first  settlers,  and  had  been  the  intimate  compan 
ion  of  all  those  excellent  and  famous  men  who  laid  the 
foundation  of  our  country.  They  were  all  gone  before 
him  to  the  grave;  and  Bradstreet  was  the  last  of  the 
Puritans." 

Grandfather  paused  a  moment  and  smiled,  as  if  he  had 


60  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

something  very  interesting  to  tell  his  auditors.  He  then 
proceeded  :  — 

"  And  now,  Laurence,  —  now,  Clara,  —  now,  Charley, 
—  now,  my  dear  little  Alice, — what  chair  do  you  think 
had  been  placed  in  the  council  chamber,  for  old  Governor 
Bradstreet  to  take  his  seat  in  ?  Would  you  believe  that 
it  was  this  very  chair  in  which  Grandfather  now  sits,  and 
of  which  he  is  telling  you  the  history  ?  " 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  with  all  my  heart !  "  cried  Char 
ley,  .after  a  shout  of  delight.  "  I  thought  Grandfather 
had  quite  forgotten  the  chair." 

"  It  was  a  solemn  and  affecting  sight,"  said  Grand 
father,  "when  this  venerable  patriarch,  with  his  white 
beard  flowing  down  upon  his  breast,  took  his  seat  in  his 
chair  of  state.  Within  his  remembrance,  and  even  since 
his  mature  age,  the  site  where  now  stood  the  populous 
town  had  been  a  wild  and  forest-covered  peninsula.  The 
province,  now  so  fertile  and  spotted  with  thriving  vil 
lages,  had  been  a  desert  wilderness.  He  was  surrounded 
by  a  shouting  multitude,  most  of  whom  had  been  born  in 
the  country  which  he  had  helped  to  found.  They  were 
of  one  generation,  and  he  of  another.  As  the  old  man 
looked  upon  them,  and  beheld  new  faces  everywhere,  he 
must  have  felt  that  it  was  now  time  for  him  to  go,  whither 
his  brethren  had  gone  before  him." 

n  Were  the  former  governors  all  dead  and  gone  ? " 
asked  Laurence. 

"All  of  them,"  replied  Grandfather.  "  Winthrop  had 
been  dead  forty  years.  Endicott  died,  a  very  old  man,  in 
1065.  Sir  Henry  Yane  was  beheaded,  in  London,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  And  Haynes, 
Dudley,  Bellingham,  and  Leverett,  who  had  all  been  gov 
ernors  of  Massachusetts,  were  now  likewise  in  their 
graves.  Old  Simon  Bradstreet  was  the  sole  represent- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  61 

ative  of  that  departed  brotherhood.  There  was  no  other 
public  man  remaining  to  connect  the  ancient  system  of 
government  and  manners  with  the  new  system  which 
was  about  to  take  its  place.  The  era  of  the  Puritans 
was  now  completed.33 

"  I  am  sorry  for  it ! 3J  observed  Laurence  ;  "for  though 
they  were  so  stern,  yet  it  seems  to  me  that  there  was 
something  warm  and  real  about  them.  I  think,  Grand 
father,  that  each  of  these  old  governors  should  have  his 
statue  set  up  in  our  State  House,  sculptured  out  of  the 
hardest  of  New  England  granite.'3 

"  It  would  not  be  amiss,  Laurence,33  said  Grandfather ; 
"  but  perhaps  clay,  or  some  other  perishable  material, 
might  suffice  for  some  of  their  successors.  But  let  us 
go  back  to  our  chair.  It  was  occupied  by  Governor 
Bradstreet  from  April,  1689,  until  May,  1692.  Sir  Wil 
liam  Phipps  then  arrived  in  Boston  with  a  new  charter 
from  King  William  and  a  commission  to  be  governor.33 


CHAPTEE    X. 


ND  what  became  of  the  chair  ?  "  inquired  Clara. 
"  The  outward  aspect  of  our  chair,"  replied 
Grandfather,  "  was  now  somewhat  the  worse  for 
its  long  and  arduous  services.  It  was  considered  hardly 
magnificent  enough  to  be  allowed  to  keep  its  place  in  the 
council  chamber  of  Massachusetts.  In  fact,  it  was  ban 
ished  as  an  article  of  useless  lumber.  But  Sir  William 
Phipps  happened  to  see  it,  and,  being  much  pleased  with 
its  construction,  resolved  to  take  the  good  old  chair  into 
his  private  mansion.  Accordingly,  with  his  own  guber 
natorial  hands,  he  repaired  one  of  its  arms,  which  had 
been  slightly  damaged." 

"  Why,  Grandfather,  here  is  the  very  arm ! "  inter 
rupted  Charley,  in  great  wonderment.  "And  did  Sir 
William  Phipps  put  in  these  screws  with  his  own  hands  ? 
I  am  sure  he  did  it  beautifully  !  But  how  came  a  gov 
ernor  to  know  how  to  mend  a  chair  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  story  about  the  early  life  of  Sir  Wil 
liam  Phipps,"  said  Grandfather.  "You  will  then  per 
ceive  that  he  well  knew  how  to  use  his  hands." 

So  Grandfather  related  the  wonderful  and  true  tale  of 

THE  SUNKEN  TREASURE. 

Picture  to  yourselves,  my  dear  children,  a  handsome, 
old-fashioned  room,  with  a  large,  open  cupboard  at  one 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  63 

end,  in  which  is  displayed  a  magnificent  gold  cup,  with 
some  other  splendid  articles  of  gold  and  silver  plate.  In 
another  part  of  the  room,  opposite  to  a  tall  looking-glass, 
stands  our  beloved  chair,  newly  polished,  and  adorned 
with  a  gorgeous  cushion  of  crimson  velvet  tufted  with 
gold. 

In  the  chair  sits  a  man  of  strong  and  sturdy  frame, 
whose  face  has  been  roughened  by  northern  tempests  and 
blackened  by  the  burning  sun  of  the  West  Indies.  He 
wears  an  immense  periwig,  flowing  down  over  his  shoul 
ders.  His  coat  has  a  wide  embroidery  of  golden  foliage ; 
and  his  waistcoat,  likewise,  is  all  flowered  over  and  be 
dizened  with  gold.  His  red,  rough  hands,  which  have 
done  many  a  good  day's  work  with  the  hammer  and  adze, 
are  half  covered  by  the  delicate  lace  ruffles  at  his  wrists. 
On  a  table  lies  his  silver-hilted  sword;  and  in  a  corner  of 
the  room  stands  his  gold-headed  cane,  made  of  a  beauti 
fully  polished  West  India  wood. 

Somewhat  such  an  aspect  as  this  did  Sir  William 
Phipps  present  when  he  sat  in  Grandfather's  chair,  after 
the  king  had  appointed  him  governor  of  Massachusetts. 
Truly  there  was  need  that  the  old  chair  should  be  var 
nished  and  decorated  with  a  crimson  cushion,  in  order  to 
make  it  suitable  for  such  a  magnificent-looking  personage. 

But  Sir  William  Phipps  had  not  always  worn  a  gold- 
embroidered  coat,  nor  always  sat  so  much  at  his  ease  as 
he  did  in  Grandfather's  chair.  He  was  a  poor  man's  son, 
and  was  born  in  the  province  of  Maine,  where  he  used  to 
tend  sheep  upon  the  hills  in  his  boyhoo'd  and  youth. 
Until  he  had  grown  to  be  a  man,  he  did  not  even  know 
how  to  read  and  write.  Tired  of  tending  sheep,  he  next- 
apprenticed  himself  to  a  ship-carpenter,  and  spent  about 
four  years  in  hewing  the  crooked  limbs  of  oak-trees  into 
knees  for  vessels. 


64  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

In  1673,  when  he  was  twenty-two  years  old,  lie  came 
to  Boston,  and  soon  afterwards  was  married  to  a  widow 
lady,  who  had  property  enough  to  set  him  up  in  business. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  before  he  lost  all  the  money 
that  he  had  acquired  by  his  marriage,  and  became  a  poor 
man  again.  Still  he  was  not  discouraged.  He  often 
told  his  wife  that,  some  time  or  other,  he  should  be  very 
rich,  and  would  build  a  "  fair  brick  house"  in  the  Green 
Lane  of  Boston. 

Do  not  suppose,  children,  that  he  had  been  to  a  fortune 
teller  to  inquire  his  destiny.  It  was  his  own  energy  and 
spirit  of  enterprise,  and  his  resolution  to  lead  an  indus 
trious  life,  that  made  him  look  forward  with  so  much 
confidence  to  better  days. 

Several  years  passed  away,  and  William  Phipps  had 
not  yet  gained  the  riches  which  he  promised  to  hinself. 
During  this  time  he  had  begun  to  follow  the  sea  for  a 
living.  In  the  year  1684  he  happened  to  hear  of  a  Span 
ish  ship  which  had  been  cast  away  near  the  Bahama 
Islands,  and  which  was  supposed  to  contain  a  great  deal 
of  gold  and  silver.  Phipps  went  to  the  place  in  a  small 
vessel,  hoping  that  he  should  be  able  to  recover  some  of  the 
treasure  from  the  wreck.  He  did  not  succeed,  however, 
in  fishing  up  gold  and  silver  enough  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  his  voyage. 

But,  before  he  returned,  he  was  told  of  another  Span 
ish  ship,  or  galleon,  which  had  been  cast  away  near 
Porto  de  la  Plata.  She  had  now  lain  as  much  as  fifty 
years  beneath  the  waves.  This  old  ship  had  been  ladened 
with  immense  wealth  ;  and,  hitherto,  nobody  had  thought 
of  the  possibility  of  recovering  any  part  of  it  from  the 
deep  sea  which  was  rolling  and  tossing  it  about.  But 
though  it  was  now  an  old  story,  and  the  most  aged  peo 
ple  had  almost  forgotten  that  such  a  vessel  had  been 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  65 

wrecked,  William  Phipps  resolved  that  the  sunken  treas 
ure  should  again  be  brought  to  light. 

He  went  to  London  and  obtained  admittance  to  King 
James,  who  had  not  yet  been  driven  from  his  throne. 
He  told  the  king  of  the  vast  wealth  that  was  lying  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.  King  James  listened  with  attention, 
and  thought  this  a  fine  opportunity  to  fill  his  treasury 
with  Spanish  gold.  He  appointed  William  Phipps  to  be 
captain  of  a  vessel,  called  the  Hose  Algier,  carrying  eigh 
teen  guns  and  ninety-five  men.  So  now  he  was  Captain 
Phipps  of  the  English  navy. 

Captain  Phipps  sailed  from  England  in  the  Rose  Al 
gier,  and  cruised  for  nearly  two  years  in  the  West  Indies, 
endeavoring  to  find  the  wreck  of  the  Spanish  ship.  But 
the  sea  is  so  wide  and  deep,  that  it  is  no  easy  matter  to 
discover  the  exact  spot  where  a  sunken  vessel  lies.  The 
prospect  of  success  seemed  very  small ;  and  most  people 
would  have  thought  that  Captain  Phipps  was  as  far  from 
having  money  enough  to  build  a  "  fair  brick  house  "  as 
he  was  while  he  tended  sheep. 

The  seamen  of  the  Rose  Algier  became  discouraged, 
and  gave  up  all  ho{)e  of  making  their  fortunes  by  discov 
ering  the  Spanish  wreck.  They  wanted  to  compel  Cap 
tain  Phipps  to  turn  pirate.  There  was  a  much  better 
prospect,  they  thought,  of  growing  rich  by  plundering 
vessels  which  still  sailed  in  the  sea  than  by  seeking  for  a 
ship  that  had  lain  beneath  the  waves  full  half  a  century. 
They  broke  out  in  open  mutiny ;  but  were  finally  mas 
tered  by  Phipps,  and  compelled  to  obey  his  orders.  It- 
would  have  been  dangerous,  however,  to  continue  much 
longer  at  sea  with  such  a  crew  of  mutinous  sailors ;  and, 
besides,  the  Rose  Algier  was  leaky  and  unseaworthy. 
So  Captain  Phipps  judged  it  best  to  return  to  Eng 
land. 


66  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Before  leaving  the  West  Indies,  lie  met  with  a  Span 
iard,  an  old  mail,  who  remembered  the  wreck  of  the 
Spanish  ship,  and  gave  him  directions  how  to  find  the 
very  spot.  It  was  on  a  reef  of  rocks,  a  few  leagues  from 
Porto  de  la  Plata. 

On  his  arrival  in  England,  therefore,  Captain  Phipps 
solicited  the  king  to  let  him  have  another  vessel  and  send 
him  back  again  to  the  West  Indies.  But  King  James, 
who  had  probably  expected  that  the  Rose  Algier  would 
return  laden  with  gold,  refused  to  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  the  affair.  Phipps  might  never  have  been 
able  to  renew  the  search  if  the  Duke  of  Albemarle  and 
some  other  noblemen  had  not  lent  their  assistance.  They 
fitted  out  a  ship,  and  gave  the  command  to  Captain 
Phipps.  He  sailed  from  England,  and  arrived  safely  at 
Porto  de  la  Plata,  where  he  took  an  adze  and  assisted  his 
men  to  build  a  large  boat. 

The  boat  was  intended  for  the  purpose  of  going  closer 
to  the  reef  of  rocks  than  a  large  vessel  could  safely  ven 
ture.  When  it  was  finished,  the  captain  sent  several 
men  in  it  to  examine  the  spot  where  the  Spanish  ship 
was  said  to  have  been  wrecked.  They  were  accompanied 
by  some  Indians,  who  were  skilful  divers,  and  could  go 
down  a  great  way  into  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

The  boat's  crew  proceeded  to  the  reef  of  rocks,  and 
rowed  round  and  round  it  a  great  many  times.  They 
gazed  down  into  the  water,  which  was  so  transpar 
ent  that  it  seemed  as  if  they  could  have  seen  the  gold 
and  silver  at  the  bottom,  had  there  been  any  of  those 
precious  metals  there.  Nothing,  however,  could  they 
see ;  nothing  more  valuable  than  a  curious  sea  shrub, 
which  was  growing  beneath  the  water,  in  a  crevice  of  the 
reef  of  rocks.  It  flaunted  to  and  fro  with  the  swell  and 
reflux  of  the  waves,  and  looked  as  bright  and  beautiful 
as  if  its  leaves  were  gold. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  67 

"We  won't  go  back  empty-handed,"  cried  an  English 
sailor ;  and  then  he  spoke  to  one  of  the  Indian  divers. 
11  Dive  down  and  bring  me  that  pretty  sea  shrub  there. 
That 's  the  only  treasure  we  shall  find." 

Down  plunged  the  diver,  and  soon  rose  dripping  from 
the  water,  holding  the  sea  shrub  in  his  hand.  But  he 
had  learned  some  news  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

"  There  are  some  ship's  guns,"  said  he,  the  moment 
he  had  drawn  breath,  "some  great  cannon,  among  the 
rocks,  near  where  the  shrub  was  growing." 

No  sooner  had  he  spoken  than  the  English  sailors 
knew  that  they  had  found  the  very  spot  where  the  Span 
ish  galleon  had  been  wrecked,  so  many  years  before. 
The  other  Indian  divers  immediately  plunged  over  the 
boat's  side  and  swam  headlong  down,  groping  among  the 
rocks  and  sunken  cannon.  In  a  few  moments  one  of 
them  rose  above  the  water  with  a  heavy  lump  of  silver 
in  his  arms.  The  single  lump  was  worth  more  than  a 
thousand  dollars.  The  sailors  took  it  into  the  boat,  and 
then  rowed  back  as  speedily  as  they  could,  being  in  haste 
to  inform  Captain  Phipps  of  their  good  luck. 

But,  confidently  as  the  captain  had  hoped  to  find  the 
Spanish  wreck,  yet,  now  that  it  was  really  found,  the 
news  seemed  too  good  to  be  true.  He  could  not  believe 
it  till  the  sailors  showed  him  the  lump  of  silver. 

"  Thanks  be  to  God !  "  then  cries  Captain  Phipps. 
"  We  shall  every  man  of  us  make  our  fortunes  !  " 

Hereupon  the  captain  and  all  the  crew  set  to  work, 
with  iron  rakes  and  great  hooks  and  lines,  fishing  for 
gold  and  silver  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  Up  came  the 
treasure  in  abundance.  Now  they  beheld  a  table  of  solid 
silver,  once  the  property  of  an  old  Spanish  grandee.  Now 
they  found  a  sacramental  vessel,  which  had  been  destined 
as  a  gift  to  some  Catholic  church.  Now  they  drew  up 


68  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

a  golden  cup,  fit  for  the  king  of  Spain  to  drink  his  wine 
out  of.  Perhaps  the  bony  hand  of  its  former  owner  had 
been  grasping  the  precious  cup,  and  was  drawn  up  along 
with  it.  Now  their  rakes  or  fishing-lines  were  loaded 
with  masses  of  silver  bullion.  There  were  also  precious 
stones  among  the  treasure,  glittering  and  sparkling,  so 
that  it  is  a  wonder  how  their  radiance  could  have  been 
concealed. 

There  is  something  sad  and  terrible  in  the  idea  of 
snatching  all  this  wealth  from  the  devouring  ocean,  which 
had  possessed  it  for  such  a  length  of  years.  It  seems  as 
if  men  had  no  right  to  make  themselves  rich  with  it.  It 
ought  to  have  been  left  with  the  skeletons  of  the  ancient 
Spaniards,  who  had  been  drowned  when  the  ship  was 
wrecked,  and  whose  bones  were  now  scattered  among  the 
gold  and  silver. 

But  Captain  Phipps  and  his  crew  were  troubled  with 
no  such  thoughts  as  these.  After  a  day  or  two  they 
lighted  on  another  part  of  the  wreck,  where  they  found  a 
great  many  bags  of  silver  dollars.  But  nobody  could 
have  guessed  that  these  were  money-bags.  By  remain 
ing  so  long  in  the  salt  water,  they  had  become  covered 
over  with  a  crust  which  had  the  appearance  of  stone,  so 
that  it  was  necessary  to  break  them  in  pieces  with  ham 
mers  and  axes.  When  this  was  done,  a  stream  of  silver 
dollars  gushed  out  upon  the  deck  of  the  vessel. 

The  whole  value  of  the  recovered  treasure,  plate,  bull 
ion,  precious  stones,  and  all,  was  estimated  at  more  than 
two  millions  of  dollars.  It  was  dangerous  even  1o  look 
at  such  a  vast  amount  of  wealth.  A  sea-captain,  who 
had  assisted  Phipps  in  the  enterprise,  utterly  lost  his  rea 
son  at  the  sight  of  it.  He  died  two  years  afterwards, 
still  raving  about  the  treasures  that  lie  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea.  It  would  have  been  better  for  this  man  if  he  had 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  69 

left  the  skeletons  of  the  shipwrecked  Spaniards  in  quiet 
possession  of  their  wealth. 

Captain  Phipps  and  his  men  continued  to  fish  up  plate, 
bullion,  and  dollars,  as  plentifully  as  ever,  till  their  pro 
visions  grew  short.  Then,  as  they  could  not  feed  upon 
gold  and  silver  any  more  than  old  King  Midas  could, 
they  found  it  necessary  to  go  in  search  of  better  suste 
nance.  Phipps  resolved  to  return  to  England.  He  ar 
rived  there  in  1687,  and  was  received  with  great  joy  by 
the  Duke  of  Albemarle  and  other  English  lords  who  had 
fitted  out  the  vessel.  Well  they  might  rejoice  ;  for  they 
took  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  treasure  to  them 
selves. 

The  captain's  share,  however,  was  enough  to  make  him 
comfortable  for  the  rest  of  his  days.  It  also  enabled 
him  to  fulfil  his  promise  to  his  wife,  by  building  a  "  fair 
brick  house  "  in  the  Green  Lane  of  Boston.  The  Duke 
of  Albemarle  sent  Mrs.  Phipps  a  magnificent  gold  cup, 
worth  at  least  five  thousand  dollars.  Before  Captain 
Phipps  left  London,  King  James  made  him  a  knight ;  so 
that,  instead  of  the  obscure  ship-carpenter  who  had  for 
merly  dwelt  among  them,  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  wel 
comed  him  on  his  return  as  the  rich  and  famous  Sir 
William  Phipps. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

IR  WILLIAM  PHIPPS,"  continued  Grand- 
father,  "  was  too  active  and  adventurous  a  man 
to  sit  still  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  his  good 
fortune.  In  the  year  1690  he  went  on  a  military  expedi 
tion  against  the  French  colonies  in  America,  conquered 
the  whole  province  of  Acadia,  and  returned  to  Boston 
with  a  great  deal  of  plunder." 

"Why,  Grandfather,  he  was  the  greatest  man  that 
ever  sat  in  the  chair  !  "  cried  Charley. 

"Ask  Laurence  what  he  thinks,"  replied  Grandfather, 
with  a  smile.  "  Well,  in  the  same  year,  Sir  William 
took  command  of  an  expedition  against  Quebec,  but  did 
not  succeed  in  capturing  the  city.  In  1692,  being  then 
in  London,  King  William  III.  appointed  him  governor 
of  Massachusetts.  And  now,  my  dear  children,  having 
followed  Sir  William  Phipps  through  all  his  adventures 
and  hardships  till  we  find  him  comfortably  seated  in 
Grandfather's  chair,  we  will  here  bid  him  farewell.  May 
he  be  as  happy  in  ruling  a  people  as  he  was  while  he 
tended  sheep  !  " 

Charley,  whose  fancy  had  been  greatly  taken  by  the 
adventurous  disposition  of  Sir  William  Phipps,  was  eager 
to  know  how  he  had  acted  and  what  happened  to  him 
while  he  held  the  office  of  governor.  But  Grandfather 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  71 

had  made  up  liis  mind  to  tell  no  more  stories  for  tlie 
present. 

"Possibly,  one  of  these  days,  I  may  go  on  with  the 
adventures  of  the  chair,"  said  he.  "  But  its  history  be 
comes  very  obscure  just  at  this  point ;  and  I  must  search 
into  some  old  books  and  manuscripts  before  proceeding 
further.  Besides,  it  is  now  a  good  time  to  pause  in  our 
narrative ;  because  the  new  charter,  which  Sir  William 
Phipps  brought  over  from  England,  formed  a  very  impor 
tant  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  province." 

"  Really,  Grandfather,"  observed  Laurence,  "  this 
seems  to  be  the  most  remarkable  chair  in  the  world.  Its 
history  cannot  be  told  without  intertwining  it  with  the 
lives  of  distinguished  men  and  the  great  events  that  have 
befallen  the  country." 

"  True,  Laurence,"  replied  Grandfather,  smiling ;  "  we 
must  write  a  book  with  some  such  title  as  this:  ME 
MOIRS  OF  MY  OWN  TIMES,  BY  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR." 

"  That  would  be  beautiful !  "  exclaimed  Laurence, 
clapping  his  hands. 

"But,  after  all,"  continued  Grandfather,  "any  other 
old  chair,  if  it  possessed  memory  and  a  hand  to  write  its 
recollections,  could  record  stranger  stories  than  any  that 
I  have  told  you.  From  generation  to  generation,  a  chair 
sits  familiarly  in  the  midst  of  human  interests,  and  is  wit 
ness  to  the  most  secret  and  confidential  intercourse  that 
mortal  man  can  hold  with  his  fellow.  The  human  heart 
may  best  be  read  in  the  fireside  chair.  And  as  to  exter 
nal  events,  Grief  and  Joy  keep  a  continual  vicissitude 
around  it  and  within  it.  Now  we  see  the  glad  face  and 
glowing  form  of  Joy,  sitting  merrily  in  the  old  chair,  and 
throwing  a  warm  firelight  radiance  over  all  the  house 
hold.  Now,  while  we  thought  not  of  it,  the  dark-clad 
mourner,  Grief,  has  stolen  into  the  place  of  Joy,  but  not 


72  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

to  retain  it  long.  The  imagination  can  hardly  grasp  so 
wide  a  subject  as  is  embraced  in  the  experience  of  a  fam 
ily  chair." 

"  It  makes  my  breath  flutter,  my  heart  thrill,  to  think 
of  it,"  said  Laurence.  "  Yes,  a  family  chair  must  have  a 
deeper  history  than  a  chair  of  state." 

"  O  yes ! "  cried  Clara,  expressing  a  woman's  feeling 
on  the  point  in  question;  "the  history  of  a  country  is 
not  nearly  so  interesting  as  that  of  a  single  family  would 
be." 

"  But  the  history  of  a  country  is  more  easily  told," 
said  Grandfather.  "  So,  if  we  proceed  with  our  narrative 
of  the  chair,  I  shall  still  confine  myself  to  its  connection 
with  public  events." 

Good  old  Grandfather  now  rose  and  quitted  the  room, 
while  the  children  remained  gazing  at  the  chair.  Lau 
rence,  so  vivid  was  his  conception  of  past  times,  would 
hardly  have  deemed  it  strange  if  its  former  occupants, 
one  after  another,  had  resumed  the  seat  which  they  had 
eacli  left  vacant  such  a  dim  length  of  years  ago. 

First,  the  gentle  and  lovely  Lady  Arbeila  would  have 
been  seen  in  the  old  chair,  almost  sinking  out  of  its  arms 
for  very  weakness;  then  Roger  Williams,  in  his  cloak 
and  band,  earnest,  energetic,  and  benevolent ;  then  the 
figure  of  Anne  Hutchinson,  with  the  like  gesture  as  when 
she  presided  at  the  assemblages  of  women  ;  then  the  dark, 
intellectual  face  of  Vane,  "  young  in  years,  but  in  sage 
counsel  old."  Next  would  have  appeared  the  successive 
governors,  Winthrop,  Dudley,  Bellingham,  and  Endicott, 
who  sat  in  the  chair  while  it  was  a  chair  of  state.  Then 
its  ample  seat  would  have  been  pressed  by  the  comforta 
ble,  rotund  corporation  of  the  honest  mint-master.  Then 
the  half-frenzied  shape  of  Mary  Dyer,  the  persecuted 
Quaker  woman,  clad  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  would  have 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  73 

rested  in  it  for  a  moment.  Then  the  holy,  apostolic  form 
of  Eliot  would  have  sanctified  it.  Then  would  have 
arisen,  like  the  shade  of  departed  Puritanism,  the  vener- 
ble  dignity  of  the  white-bearded  Governor  Bradstreet. 
Lastly,  on  the  gorgeous  crimson  cushion  of  Grandfather's 
chair,  would  have  shone  the  purple  and  golden  magnifi 
cence  of  Sir  William  Phipps. 

But  all  these,  with  the  other  historic  personages,  in 
the  midst  of  whom  the  chair  had  so  often  stood,  had 
passed,  both  in  substance  and  shadow,  from  the  scene  of 
ages.  Yet  here  stood  the  chair,  with  the  old  Lincoln 
coat  of  arms,  and  the  oaken  flowers  and  foliage,  and  the 
fierce  lion's  head  at  the  summit,  the  whole,  apparently,  in 
as  perfect  preservation  as  when  it  had  first  been  placed 
in  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  hall.  And  what  vast  changes  of 
society  and  of  nations  had  been  wrought  by  sudden  con 
vulsions  or  by  slow  degrees  since  that  era ! 

"  This  chair  had  stood  firm  when  the  thrones  of  kings 
were  overturned  !  "  thought  Laurence.  "  Its  oaken  frame 
has  proved  stronger  than  many  frames  of  government !  " 

More  the  thoughtful  and  imaginative  boy  might  have 
mused  ;  but  now  a  large  yellow  cat,  a  great  favorite  with 
all  the  children,  leaped  in  at  the  open  window.  Per 
ceiving  that  Grandfather's  chair  was  empty,  and  having 
often  before  experienced  its  comforts,  puss  laid  herself 
quietly  down  upon  the  cushion.  Laurence,  Clara,  Char 
ley,  and  little  Alice  all  laughed  at  the  idea  of  such  a  suc 
cessor  to  the  worthies  of  old  times. 

"Pussy,"  said  little  Alice,  putting  out  her  hand,  into 
which  the  cat  laid  a  velvet  paw,  "  you  look  very  wise. 
Do  tell  us  a  story  about  GIIANDFATHER'S  CHAIII  ! " 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR. 


PART   II. 
CHAP  TEE    I. 

GRANDFATHER,  dear  Grandfather/'  cried 
little  Alice,  "  pray  tell  us  some  more  stories 
about  your  chair  !  " 

How  long  a  time  had  fled  since  the  children  had  felt 
any  curiosity  to  hear  the  sequel  of  this  venerable  chair's 
adventures !  Summer  was  now  past  and  gone,  and  the 
better  part  of  autumn  likewise.  Dreary,  chill  November 
was  howling  out  of  doors,  and  vexing  the  atmosphere 
with  sudden  showers  of  wintry  rain,  or  sometimes  with 
gusts  of  snow,  that  rattled  like  small  pebbles  against  the 
windows. 

When  the  weather  began  to  grow  cool,  Grandfather's 
chair  had  been  removed  from  the  summer  parlor  into  a 
smaller  and  snugger  room.  It  now  stood  by  the  side  of 
a  bright,  blazing,  wood-fire.  Grandfather  loved  a  wood- 
fire  far  better  than  a  grate  ofglowing  anthracite,  or  than 
the  dull  heat  of  an  invisible  furnace,  which  seems  to  think 
that  it  has  done  its  duty  in  merely  warming  the  house. 
But  the  wood  fire  is  a  kindly,  cheerful,  sociable  spirit, 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  75 

sympathizing  with  mankind,  and  knowing  that  to  create 
warmth  is  but  one  of  the  good  offices  which  are  expected 
from  it.  Therefore  it  dances  on  the  hearth,  and  laughs 
broadly  through  the  room,  and  plays  a  thousand  antics, 
and  throws  a  joyous  glow  over  all  the  faces  that  encir 
cle  it. 

In  the  twilight  of  the  evening  the  fire  grew  brighter 
and  more  cheerful.  And  thus,  perhaps,  there  was  some 
thing  in  Grandfather's  heart  that  cheered  him  most  with 
its  warmth  and  comfort  in  the  gathering  twilight  of 
old  age.  He  had  been  gazing  at  the  red  embers  as  in 
tently  as  if  his  past  life  were  all  pictured  there,  or  as  if 
it  were  a  prospect  of  the  future  world,  when  little  Alice's 
voice  aroused  him.  "Dear  Grandfather,"  repeated  the 
little  girl,  more  earnestly,  "  do  talk  to  us  again  about 
your  chair." 

Laurence,  and  Clara,  and  Charley,  and  little  Alice  had 
been  attracted  to  other  objects  for  two  or  three  months 
past.  They  had  sported  in  the  gladsome  sunshine  of  the 
present,  and  so  had  forgotten  the  shadowy  region  of  the 
past,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  Grandfather's  chair. 
But  now,  in  the  autumnal  twilight,  illuminated  by  the 
nickering  blaze  of  the  wood-fire,  they  looked  at  the  old 
chair,  and  thought  that  it  had  never  before  worn  such  an 
interesting  aspect.  There  it  stood  in  the  venerable  maj 
esty  of  more  than  two  hundred  years.  The  light  from 
the  hearth  quivered  upon  the  flowers  and  foliage  that 
were  wrought  into  its  oaken  back  ;  and  the  lion's  head 
at  the  summit  seemed  almost  to  move  its  jaws  and  shake 
its  mane. 

"  Does  little  Alice  speak  for  all  of  you  ?  "  asked  Grand 
father.  "Do  you  wish  me  to  go  on  with  the  adventures 
of  the  chair  ?  " 

"  0   yes,  yes,  Grandfather  !  "  cried  Clara.     "  The  dear 


76  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

old  chair !  How  strange  that  we  should  have  forgotten 
it  so  long !  " 

"0,  pray  begin,  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence;  "for  I 
think,  when  we  talk  about  old  times,  it  should  be  in  the 
early  evening,  before  the  candles  are  lighted.  The  shapes 
of  the  famous  persons  who  once  sat  in  the  chair  will  be 
more  apt  to  come  back,  and  be  seen  among  us  ;  in  this 
glimmer  and  pleasant  gloom,  than  they  would  in  the  vul 
gar  daylight.  And,  besides,  we  can  make  pictures  of 
all  that  you  tell  us  among  the  glowing  embers  and  white 
ashes." 

Our  friend  Charley,  too,  thought  the  evening  the  best 
time  to  hear  Grandfather's  stories,  because  he  could  not 
then  be  playing  out  of  doors.  So  finding  his  young  au 
ditors  unanimous  in  their  petition,  the  good  old  gentle 
man  took  up  the  narrative  of  the  historic  chair  at  the 
point  where  he  had  dropped  it. 


CHAPTEE   II. 

OU  recollect,  my  dear  children,"  said  Grand 
father,  "  that  we  took  leave  of  the  chair  in 

Ifi92,  while  it  was  occupied  by  Sir  William 

Phipps.  This  fortunate  treasure-seeker,  you  will  remem 
ber,  had  come  over  from  England,  with  King  William's 
commission,  to  be  governor  of  Massachusetts.  Within 
the  limits  of  this  province  were  now  included  the  old 
colony  of  Plymouth  and  the  territories  of  Maine  and 
Nova  Scotia.  Sir  William  Phipps  had  likewise  brought 
a  new  charter  from  the  king,  which  served  instead  of  a 
constitution,  and  set  forth  the  method  in  which  the 
province  was  to  be  governed." 

"  Did  the  new  charter  allow  the  people  all  their  former 
liberties  ?  "  inquired  Laurence. 

"  No,"  replied  Grandfather.  "  Under  tlie  first  char 
ter,  the  people  had  been  the  source  of  all  power.  Win- 
throp,  Endicott,  Bradstreet,  and  the  rest  of  them  had 
been  governors  by  the  choice  of  the  people,  without  any 
interference  of  the  king.  But  henceforth  the  governor 
was  to  hold  his  station  solely  by  the  king's  appointment 
and  during  his  pleasure  ;  and  the  same  was  the  case  with 
the  lieutenant-governor  and  some  other  high  officers. 
The  people,  however,  were  still  allowed  to  choose  repre 
sentatives  ;  and  the  governor's  council  was  chosen  by 
the  General  Court." 


78  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"Would  the  inhabitants  have  elected  Sir  William 
Phipps,"  asked  Laurence,  "  if  the  choice  of  governor 
had  been  left  to  them?" 

"He  might  probably  have  been  a  successful  candi 
date,"  answered  Grandfather;  "for  his  adventures  and 
military  enterprises  had  gained  him  a  sort  of  renown, 
which  always  goes  a  great  way  with  the  people.  And  he 
had  many  popular  characteristics,  being  a  kind,  warm 
hearted  man,  not  ashamed  of  his  low  origin,  nor  haughty 
in  his  present  elevation.  Soon  after  his  arrival,  he 
proved  that  he  did  not  blush  to  recognize  his  former  as 
sociates." 

"  How  was  that  ?  "  inquired  Charley. 

"  He  made  a  grand  festival  at  his  new  brick  house," 
said  Grandfather,  "  and  invited  all  the  ship-carpenters  of 
Boston  lo  be  his  guests.  At  the  head  of  the  table,  in 
our  great  chair,  sat  Sir  William  Phipps  himself,  treating 
these  hard-handed  men  as  his  brethren,  cracking  jokes 
with  them,  and  talking  familiarly  about  old  times.  I 
know  not  whether  he  w^ore  his  embroidered  dress  ;  but  I 
rather  choose  to  imagine  that  he  had  on  a  suit  of  rough 
clothes,  such  as  he  used  to  labor  in  while  he  was  Phipps 
the  ship-carpenter." 

"  An  aristocrat  need  not  be  ashamed  of  the  trade,"  ob 
served  Laurence ;  "  for  the  Czar  Peter  the  Great  once 
served  an  apprenticeship  to  it." 

"Did  Sir  William  Phipps  make  as  good  a  governor  as 
he  was  a  ship-carpenter  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  History  says  but  little  about  his  merits  as  a  ship-car 
penter,"  answered  Grandfather ;  "  but,  as  a  governor,  a 
great  deal  of  fault  was  found  with  him.  Almost  as  soon 
as  he  assumed  the  government,  he  became  engaged  in  a 
very  frightful  business,  which  might  have  perplexed  a 
wiser  and  better  cultivated  head  than  his.  This  was  the 
witchcraft  delusion." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  79 

And  here  Grandfather  gave  his  auditors  such  details  of 
this  melancholy  affair  as  he  thought  it  fit  for  them  to 
know.  They  shuddered  to  hear  that  a  frenzy,  which  led 
to  the  death  of  many  innocent  persons,  had  originated  in 
the  wicked  arts  of  a  few  children.  They  belonged  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Parris,  minister  of  Salem.  These  children 
complained  of  being  pinched  and  pricked  with  pins,  and 
otherwise  tormented  by  the  shapes  of  men  and  women, 
who  were  supposed  to  have  power  to  haunt  them  invisi 
bly,  both  in  darkness  and  daylight.  Often  in  the  midst 
of  their  family  and  friends  the  children  would  pretend  to 
be  seized  with  strange  convulsions,  and  would  cry  out 
that  the  witches  were  afflicting  them. 

These  stories  spread  abroad,  and  caused  great  tumult 
and  alarm.  Prom  the  foundation  of  New  England,  it 
had  been  the  custom  of  the  inhabitants,  in  all  matters  of 
doubt  and  difficulty,  to  look  to  their  ministers  for  coun 
sel.  So  they  did  now ;  but,  unfortunately,  the  ministers 
and  wise  men  were  more  deluded  than  the  illiterate  peo 
ple.  Cotton  Mather,  a  very  learned  and  eminent  clergy 
man,  believed  that  the  whole  country  was  full  of  witches 
and  wizards,  who  had  given  up  their  hopes  of  heaven,  and 
signed  a  covenant  with  the  evil  one. 

Nobody  could  be  certain  that  his  nearest  neighbor  or 
most  intimate  friend  was  not  guilty  of  this  imaginary 
crime.  The  number  of  those  who  pretended  to  be  af 
flicted  by  witchcraft  grew  daily  more  numerous;  and 
they  bore  testimony  against  many  of  the  best  and  worthi 
est  people.  A  minister,  named  George  Burroughs,  was 
among  the  accused.  In  the  months  of  August  and  Sep 
tember,  1692,  he  and  nineteen  other  innocent  men  and 
women  were  put  to  death.  The  place  of  execution  was  a 
high  hill,  on  the  outskirts  of  Salem  ;  so  that  many  of  the 
suiferers,  as  they  stood  beneath  the  gallows,  could  dis 
cern  their  own  habitations  in  the  town. 


80  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

The  martyrdom  of  these  guiltless  persons  seemed  only 
to  increase  the  madness.  The  afflicted  now  grew  bolder 
in  their  accusations.  Many  people  of  rank  and  wealth 
were  either  thrown  into  prison  or  compelled  to  flee  for 
their  lives.  Among  these  were  two  sons  of  old  Simon 
Bradstreet,  the  last  of  the  Puritan  governors.  Mr.  Wil- 
lard,  a  pious  minister  of  Boston,  was  cried  out  upon  as  a 
wizard  in  open  court.  Mrs.  Hale,  the  wife  of  the  minis 
ter  of  Beverly,  was  likewise  accused.  Philip  English,  a 
rich  merchant  of  Salem,  found  it  necessary  to  take  flight, 
leaving  his  property  and  business  in  confusion.  But  a 
short  time  afterwards,  the  Salem  people  were  glad  to  in 
vite  him  back. 

"  The  boldest  thing  that  the  accusers  did,"  continued 
Grandfather,  "was  to  cry  out  against  the  governor's  own 
beloved  wife.  Yes,  the  lady  of  Sir  William  Phipps  was 
accused  of  being  a  witch  and  of  flying  through  the  air  to 
attend  witch-meetings.  When  the  governor  heard  this 
lie  probably  trembled,  so  that  our  great  chair  shook  be 
neath  him." 

"  Dear  Grandfather,"  cried  little  Alice,  clinging  closer 
to  his  knee,  "is  it  true  that  witches  ever  come  in  the 
night-time  to  frighten  little  children  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  dear  little  Alice,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  Even  if  there  were  any  witches,  they  would  flee  away 
from  the  presence  of  a  pure-hearted  child.  But  there  are 
none ;  and  our  forefathers  soon  became  convinced  that 
they  had  been  led  into  a  terrible  delusion.  All  the  pris 
oners  on  account  of  witchcraft  were  set  free.  But  the 
innocent  dead  could  not  be  restored  to  life ;  and  the  hill 
where  they  were  executed  will  always  remind  people  of 
the  saddest  and  most  humiliating  passage  in  our  history." 

Grandfather  then  said  that  the  next  remarkable  event, 
while  Sir  William  Phipps  remained  in  the  chair,  was  the 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  81 

arrival  at  Boston  of  an  English  fleet  in  1693.  It  brought 
an  army  which  was  intended  for  the  conquest  of  Canada. 
But  a  malignant  disease,  more  fatal  than  the  small-pox, 
broke  out  among  the  soldiers  and  sailors,  and  destroyed 
the  greater  part  of  them.  The  infection  spread  into  the 
town  of  Boston,  and  made  much  havoc  there.  This  dread 
ful  sickness  caused  the  governor  and  Sir  Francis  Wheeler, 
who  was  commander  of  the  British  forces,  to  give  up  all 
thoughts  of  attacking  Canada. 

"Soon  after  this,"  said  Grandfather,  "Sir  William 
Phipps  quarrelled  with  the  captain  of  an  English  frigate, 
and  also  with  the  collector  of  Boston.  Being  a  man  of  vio 
lent  temper,  he  gave  each  of  them  a  sound  beating  with 
his  cane." 

"  He  was  a  bold  fellow,"  observed  Charley,  who  was 
himself  somewhat  addicted  to  a  similar  mode  of  settling 
disputes. 

"More  bold  than  wise,"  replied  Grandfather;  "for 
complaints  were  carried  to  the  king,  and  Sir  William 
Phipps  was  summoned  to  England  to  make  the  best  an 
swer  he  could.  Accordingly  he  went  to  London,  where, 
iii  1695,  he  was  seized  with  a  malignant  fever,  of  which 
he  died.  Had  he  lived  longer,  he  would  probably  have 
gone  again  in  search  of  sunken  treasure.  He  had  heard 
of  a  Spanish  ship,  which  was  cast  away  in  1502,  during 
the  lifetime  of  Columbus.  Bovadilla,  Roldan,  and  many 
other  Spaniards  were  lost  in  her,  together  with  the  im 
mense  wealth  of  which  they  had  robbed  the  South  Amer 
ican  kings." 

"  Why,  Grandfather  !  "  exclaimed  Laurence,  "  what 
magnificent  ideas  the  governor  had  !  Only  think  of  re 
covering  all  that  old  treasure  which  had  lain  almost  two 
centuries  under  the  sea !  Methinks  Sir  William  Phipps 
ought  to  have  been  buried  in  the  ocean  when  he  died,  so 
4*  F 


82  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIU. 

that  he  might  have  gone  down  among  the  sunken  ships 
and  cargoes  of  treasure  which  he  was  always  dreaming 
about  in  his  lifetime." 

"  He  was  buried  in  one  of  the  crowded  cemeteries  of 
London,"  said  Grandfather.  "  As  he  left  no  children,  his 
estate  was  inherited  by  his  nephew,  from  whom  is  de 
scended  the  present  Marquis  of  Normanby.  The  noble 
Marquis  is  not  aware,  perhaps,  that  the  prosperity  of  his 
family  originated  in  the  successful  enterprise  of  a  New 
England  ship-carpenter." 


CHAPTER   III. 

|T  the  death  of  Sir  William  Phipps,"  proceeded 
Grandfather,  "  our  chair  was  bequeathed  to  Mr. 
Ezekiel  Cheever,  a  famous  schoolmaster  in  Bos 
ton.  This  old  gentleman  came  from  London  in  1037, 
and  had  been  teaching  school  ever  since ;  so  that  there 
were  now  aged  men,  grandfathers  like  myself,  to  whom 
Master  Cheever  had  taught  their  alphabet.  He  was  a  per 
son  of  venerable  aspect,  and  wore  a  long  white  beard." 

"  Was  the  chair  placed  in  his  school  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  Yes,  in  his  school,"  answered  Grandfather  ;  "  and  we 
may  safely  say  that  it  had  never  before  been  regarded 
with  such  awful  reverence,  —  no,  not  even  when  the  old 
governors  of  Massachusetts  sat  in  it.  Even  you,  Char 
ley,  my  boy,  would  have  felt  some  respect  for  the  chair  if 
you  had  seen  it  occupied  by  this  famous  schoolmaster." 

And  lie  re  Grandfather  endeavored  to  give  his  auditors 
an  idea  now  matters  were  managed  in  schools  above  a 
hundred  years  ago.  As  this  will  probably  be  an  inter 
esting  subject  to  our  readers,  we  shall  make  a  separate 
sketch  of  it,  and  call  it 

THE  OLD-FASHIONED  SCHOOL. 

Now,  imagine  yourselves,  my  children,  in  Master  Eze 
kiel  Cheever's  school-room.  It  is  a  large,  dingy  room, 


84  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

with  a  sanded  floor,  and  is  lighted  by  windows  that  turn 
on  hinges  and  have  little  diamond-shaped  panes  of  glass. 
The  scholars  sit  on  long  benches,  with  desks  before  them. 
At  one  end  of  the  room  is  a  great  fireplace,  so  very  spa 
cious  that  there  is  room  enough  for  three  or  four  boys  to 
stand  in  each  of  the  chimney-corners.  This  was  the  good 
old  fashion  of  fireplaces  when  there  was  wood  enough  in 
the  forests  to  keep  people  warm  without  their  digging  into 
the  bowels  of  the  earth  for  coal. 

It  is  a  winter's  day  when  we  take  our  peep  into  the 
school-room.  See  what  great  logs  of  wood  have  been 
rolled  into  the  fireplace,  and  what  a  broad,  bright  blaze 
goes  leaping  up  the  chimney!  And  every  few  moments 
a  vast  cloud  of  smoke  is  puifed  into  the  room,  which  sails 
slowly  over  the  heads  of  the  scholars,  until  it  gradually 
settles  upon  the  walls  and  ceiling.  They  are  blackened 
with  the  smoke  of  many  years  already. 

Next  look  at  our  old  historic  chair !  It  is  placed,  you 
perceive,  in  the  most  comfortable  part  of  the  room,  where 
the  generous  glow  of  the  fire  is  sufficiently  felt  without 
being  too  intensely  hot.  How  stately  the  old  chair  looks, 
as  if  it  remembered  its  many  famous  occupants,  but  yet 
were  conscious  that  a  greater  man  is  sitting  in  it  now  ! 
Do  you  see  the  venerable  schoolmaster,  severe  in  aspect, 
with  a  black  skullcap  on  his  head,  like  an  ancient  Puri 
tan,  and  the  snow  of  his  white  beard  drifting  down  to 
his  very  girdle  ?  What  boy  would  dare  to  play,  or  whis 
per,  or  even  glance  aside  from  his  book,  while  Master 
Cheever  is  on  the  lookout  behind  his  spectacles  ?  For 
such  offenders,  if  any  such  there  be,  a  rod  of  birch  is 
hanging  over  the  fireplace,  and  a  heavy  ferule  lies  on  the 
master's  desk. 

And  now  school  is  begun.  What  a  murmur  of  multi 
tudinous  tongues,  like  the  whispering  leaves  of  a  wind- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  85 

stirred  oak,  as  the  scholars  con  over  their  various  tasks  ! 
Buzz  !  buzz !  buzz !  Amid  just  such  a  murmur  has 
Master  Cheever  spent  above  sixty  years ;  and  long  habit 
has  made  it  as  pleasant  to  him  as  the  hum  of  a  beehive 
when  the  insects  are  busy  in  the  sunshine. 

Now  a  class  in  Latin  is  called  to  recite.  Forth  steps  a 
row  of  queer-looking  little  fellows,  wearing  square-skirted 
coats  and  small-clothes,  with  buttons  at  the  knee.  They 
look  like  so  many  grandfathers  in  their  second  childhood. 
These  lads  are  to  be  sent  to  Cambridge  and  educated  for 
the  learned  professions.  Old  Master  Cheever  has  lived 
so  long,  and  seen  so  many  generations  of  school-boys 
grow  up  to  be  men,  that  now  he  can  almost  prophesy 
what  sort  of  a  man  each  boy  will  be.  One  urchin  shall 
hereafter  be  a  doctor,  and  administer  pills  and  potions, 
and  stalk  gravely  through  life,  perfumed  with  assafoetida. 
Another  shall  wrangle  at  the  bar,  and  fight  his  way  to 
wealth  and  honors,  and,  in  his  declining  ags,  shall  be  a 
worshipful  member  of  his  Majesty's  council.  A  third  — 
and  he  is  the  master's  favorite  —  shall  be  a  worthy  suc 
cessor  to  the  old  Puritan  ministers  now  in  their  graves ; 
lie  shall  preach  with  great  unction  and  effect,  and  leave 
volumes  of  sermons,  in  print  and  manuscript,  for  the  ben 
efit  of  future  generations, 

But,  as  they  are  merely  school-boys  now,  their  busi 
ness  is  to  construe  Virgil.  Poor  Virgil !  whose  verses, 
which  he  took  so  much  pains  to  polish,  have  been  mis- 
scanned,  and  misparsed,  and  misinterpreted  by  so  many 
generations  of  idle  school-boys.  There,  sit  down,  ye  Lat- 
mists.  Two  or  three  of  you,  I  fear,  are  doomed  to  feel 
the  master's  ferule. 

Next  comes  a  class  in  arithmetic.  These  boys  are  to 
be  the  merchants,  shopkeepers,  and  mechanics  of  a  fu 
ture  period.  Hitherto  they  have  traded  only  in  marbles 


bb  GRANDFATHER  S    CHAIR. 

and  apples.  Hereafter  some  will  send  vessels  to  England 
for  broadcloths  and  all  sorts  of  manufactured  wares,  and 
to  the  West  Indies  for  sugar,  and  rum,  and  coffee. 
Others  will  stand  behind  counters,  and  measure  tape, 
and  ribbon,  and  cambric  by  the  yard.  Others  will  up 
heave  the  blacksmith's  hammer,  or  drive  the  plane  over 
the  carpenter's  bench,  or  take  the  lapstone  and  the  awl 
and  learn  the  trade  of  shoemaking.  Many  will  follow 
the  sea,  and  become  bold,  rough  sea-captains. 

This  class  of  boys,  in  short,  must  supply  the  world 
with  those  active,  skilful  hands,  and  clear,  sagacious 
heads,  without  which  the  affairs  of  life  would  be  thrown 
into  confusion  by  the  theories  of  studious  and  visionary 
men.  Wherefore,  teach  them  their  multiplication-table, 
good  Master  Cheever,  and  whip  them  well  when  they 
deserve  it ;  for  much  of  the  country's  welfare  depends 
on  these  boys. 

But,  alas  !  while  we  have  been  thinking  of  other  mat 
ters,  Master  Cheever's  watchful  eye  has  caught  two  boys 
at  play.  Now  we  shall  see  awful  times.  The  two  male 
factors  are  summoned  before  the  master's  chair,  wherein 
he  sits  with  the  terror  of  a  judge  upon  his  brow.  Our 
old  chair  is  now  a  judgment-seat.  Ah,  Master  Cheever 
has  taken  down  that  terrible  birch  rod !  Short  is  the 
trial,  —  the  sentence  quickly  passed,  —  and  now  the  judge 
prepares  to  execute  it  in  person.  Thwack  !  thwack  ! 
thwack !  In  these  good  old  times,  a  schoolmaster's 
blows  were  well  laid  on. 

See,  the  birch  rod  has  lost  several  of  its  twigs,  and 
will  hardly  serve  for  another  execution.  Mercy  on 
us,  what  a  bellowing  the  urchins  make !  My  ears  are 
almost  deafened,  though  the  clamor  comes  through  the 
far  length  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  years.  There,  go  to 
your  seats,  poor  boys;  and  do  not  cry,  sweet  little 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  87 

Alice,  for  they  have  ceased  to  feel  the  pain  a  long  time 
since. 

And  thus  the  forenoon  passes  away.  Now  it  is  twelve 
o'clock.  The  master  looks  at  his  great  silver  watch,  and 
then,  with  tiresome  deliberation,  puts  the  ferule  into  his 
desk.  The  little  multitude  await  the  word  of  dismissal 
with  almost  irrepressible  impatience. 

"  You  are  dismissed,"  says  Master  Cheever. 

The  boys  retire,  treading  softly  until  they  have  passed 
the  threshold;  but,  fairly  out  of  the  school-room,  lo, 
what  a  joyous  shout !  what  a  scampering  and  trampling 
of  feet !  what  a  sense  of  recovered  freedom  expressed 
in  the  merry  uproar  of  all  their  voices  !  What  care 
they  for  the  ferule  and  birch  rod  now  ?  Were  boys 
created  merely  to  study  Latin  and  arithmetic  ?  No ; 
the  better  purposes  of  their  being  are  to  sport,  to 
leap,  to  run,  to  shout,  to  slide  upon  the  ice,  to  snow 
ball. 

Happy  boys  !  Enjoy  your  playtime  now,  and  come 
again  to  study  and  to  feel  the  birch  rod  and  the  ferule 
to-morrow ;  not  till  to-morrow ;  for  to-day  is  Thursday 
lecture  ;  and,  ever  since  the  settlement  of  Massachusetts, 
there  has  been  no  school  on  Thursday  afternoons.  There 
fore  sport,  boys,  while  you  may,  for  the  morrow  cometh, 
with  the  birch  rod  and  the  ferule  ;  and  after  that  another 
morrow,  with  troubles  of  its  own. 

Now  the  master  has  set  everything  to  rights,  and  is 
ready  to  go  home  to  dinner.  Yet  he  goes  reluctantly. 
The  old  man  has  spent  so  much  of  his  life  in  the  smoky, 
noisy,  buzzing  school-room,  that,  when  he  has  a  holiday, 
he  feels  as  if  his  place  were  lost  and  himself  a  stranger 
in  the  world.  But  forth  he  goes  ;  and  there  stands  our 
old  chair,  vacant  and  solitary,  till  good  Master  Cheever 
resumes  his  seat  in  it  to-morrow  morning. 


55  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  Grandfather,"  said  Charley,  "  I  wonder  whether  the 
boys  did  not  use  to  upset  the  old  chair  when  the  school 
master  was  out." 

"  There  is  a  tradition,"  replied  Grandfather,  "  that  one 
of  its  arms  was  dislocated  in  some  such  manner.  But  I 
cannot  believe  that  any  school-boy  would  behave  so 
naughtily." 

As  it  was  now  later  than  little  Alice's  usual  bedtime, 
Grandfather  broke  off  his  narrative,  promising  to  talk 
more  about  Master  Cheever  and  his  scholars  some  other 
evening. 


CHAPTEE    IV. 


,  the  next  evening,  Grandfather 
resumed  the  history  of  his  beloved  chair. 

"  Master  Ezekiel  Cheever,"  said  he,  "  died 
in  1707,  after  having  taught  school  about  seventy  years. 
It  would  require  a  pretty  good  scholar  in  arithmetic  to 
tell  how  many  stripes  he  had  inflicted,  and  how  many 
birch  rods  he  had  worn  out,  during  all  that  time,  in  his 
fatherly  tenderness  for  his  pupils.  Almost  all  the  great 
men  of  that  period,  and  for  many  years  back,  had  been 
whipped  into  eminence  by  Master  Cheever.  Moreover, 
he  had  written  a  Latin  Accidence,  which  was  used  in 
schools  more  than  half  a  century  after  his  death  ;  so 
that  the  good  old  man,  even  in  his  grave,  was  still  the 
cause  of  trouble  and  stripes  to  idle  school-boys." 

Grandfather  proceeded  to  say,  that,  when  Master 
Cheever  died,  he  bequeathed  the  chair  to  the  most 
learned  man  that  was  educated  at  his  school,  or  that  had 
ever  been  born  in  America.  This  was  the  renowned 
Cotton  Mather,  minister  of  the  Old  North  Church  in 
Boston. 

"  And  author  of  the  Magnalia,  Grandfather,  which  we 
sometimes  see  you  reading,"  said  Laurence. 

"Yes,  Laurence,"  replied  Grandfather.  "The  Mag 
nalia  is  a  strange,  pedantic  history,  in  which  true  events 


90  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

and  real  personages  move  before  the  reader  with  the 
dreamy  aspect  which  they  wore  in  Cotton  Mather's  sin 
gular  mind.  This  huge  volume,  however,  was  written 
and  published  before  our  chair  came  into  his  possession. 
But,  as  he  was  the  author  of  more  books  than  there  are 
days  in  the  year,  we  may  conclude  that  lie  wrote  a  great 
deal  while  sitting  in  this  chair." 

"I  am  tired  of  these  schoolmasters  and  learned  men," 
said  Charley.  "I  wish  some  stirring  man,  that  knew 
how  to  do  something  in  the  world,  like  Sir  William 
Phipps,  would  sit  in  the  chair." 

"  Such  men  seldom  have  leisure  to  sit  quietly  in  a 
chair,"  said  Grandfather.  "  We  must  make  the  best  of 
such  people  as  we  have." 

As  Cotton  Mather  was  a  very  distinguished  man, 
Grandfather  took  some  pains  to  give  the  children  a  lively 
conception  of  his  character.  Over  the  door  of  his  li 
brary  were  painted  these  words,  BE  SHORT,  —  as  a  warn 
ing  to  visitors  that  they  must  not  do  the  world  so  much 
harm  as  needlessly  to  interrupt  this  great  man's  wonder 
ful  labors.  On  entering  the  room  you  would  probably 
behold  it  crowded,  and  piled,  and  heaped  with  books. 
There  were  huge,  ponderous  folios,  and  quartos,  and 
little  duodecimos,  in  English,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew, 
Chaldaic,  and  all  other  languages  that  either  originated 
at  the  confusion  of  Babel  or  have  since  come  into  use. 

All  these  books,  no  doubt,  were  tossed  about  in  confu 
sion,  thus  forming  a  visible  emblem  of  the  manner  in 
which  their  contents  were  crowded  into  Cotton  Mather's 
brain.  And  in  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a  table,  on 
which,  besides  printed  volumes,  were  strewn  manuscript 
sermons,  historical  tracts,  and  political  pamphlets,  all 
written  in  such  a  queer,  blind,  crabbed,  fantastical  hand, 
that  a  writing-master  would  have  gone  raving  mad  at 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  91 

the  sight  of  them.  By  this  table  stood  Grandfather's 
chair,  which  seemed  already  to  have  contracted  an  air  of 
deep  erudition,  as  if  its  cushion  were  stuffed  with  Latin, 
Greek,  and  Hebrew,  and  other  hard  matters. 

In  this  chair,  from  one  year's  end  to  another,  sat  that 
prodigious  bookworm,  Cotton  Mather,  sometimes  devour 
ing  a  great  book,  and  sometimes  scribbling  one  as  big. 
In  Grandfather's  younger  days  there  used  to  be  a  wax 
figure  of  him  in  one  of  the  Boston  museums,  represent 
ing  a  solemn,  dark-visaged  person,  in  a  minister's  black 
gown,  and  with  a  black-letter  volume  before  him. 

"It  is  difficult,  my  children,"  observed  Grandfather, 
"to  make  you  understand  such  a  character  as  Cotton 
Mather's,  in  whom  there  was  so  much  good,  and  yet  so 
many  failings  and  frailties.  Undoubtedly  he  was  a  pious 
man.  Often  he  kept  fasts ;  and  once,  for  three  whole 
days,  he  allowed  himself  not  a  morsel  of  food,  but  spent 
the  time  in  prayer  and  religious  meditation.  Many  a  live 
long  night  did  he  watch  and  pray.  These  fasts  and  vigils 
made  him  meagre  and  haggard,  and  probably  caused  him 
to  appear  as  if  he  hardly  belonged  to  the  world." 

"  Was  not  the  witchcraft  delusion  partly  caused  by 
Cotton  Mather  ?  "  inquired  Laurence. 

"  He  was  the  chief  agent  of  the  mischief,"  answered 
Grandfather ;  "  but  we  will  not  suppose  that  he  acted 
otherwise  than  conscientiously.  He  believed  that  there 
were  evil  spirits  all  about  the  world.  Doubtless  he  im 
agined  that  they  were  hidden  in  the  corners  and  crevices 
of  his  library,  and  that  they  peeped  out  from  among  the 
leaves  of  many  of  his  books,  as  he  turned  them  over,  at 
midnight.  He  supposed  that  these  unlovely  demons  were 
everywhere,  in  the  sunshine  as  well  as  in  the  darkness, 
and  that  they  were  hidden  in  men's  hearts,  and  stole  into 
their  most  secret  thoughts." 


92  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Here  Grandfather  was  interrupted  by  little  Alice,  who 
hid  her  face  in  his  lap,  and  murmured  a  wish  that  he 
would  not  talk  any  more  about  Cotton  Mather  and  the 
evil  spirits.  Grandfather  kissed  her,  and  told  her  that 
angels  were  the  only  spirits  whom  she  had  anything  to 
do  with.  He  then  spoke  of  the  public  affairs  of  the  pe 
riod. 

A  new  war  between  France  and  England  had  broken 
out  in  1702,  and  had  been  raging  ever  since.  In  the 
course  of  it,  New  England  suffered  much  injury  from  the 
French  and  Indians,  who  often  came  through  the  woods 
from  Canada  and  assaulted  the  frontier  towns.  Villages 
were  sometimes  burned,  and  the  inhabitants  slaughtered, 
within  a  day's  ride  of  Boston.  The  people  of  New  Eng 
land  had  a  bitter  hatred  against  the  Trench,  not  only  for 
the  mischief  which  they  did  with  their  own  hands,  but 
because  they  incited  the  Indians  to  hostility. 

The  New-Englanders  knew  that  they  could  never  dwell 
in  security  until  the  provinces  of  France  should  be  sub 
dued  and  brought  under  the  English  government.  They 
frequently,  in  time  of  war,  undertook  military  expeditions 
against  Acadia  and  Canada,  and  sometimes  besieged  the 
fortresses  by  which  those  territories  were  defended.  But 
the  most  earnest  wish  of  their  hearts  was  to  take  Quebec, 
and  so  get  possession  of  the  whole  Province  of  Canada. 
Sir  William  Phipps  had  once  attempted  it,  but  without 
success. 

Fleets  and  soldiers  were  often  sent  from  England  to 
assist  the  colonists  in  their  warlike  undertakings.  In 
1710  Port  Royal,  a  fortress  of  Acadia,  was  taken  by  the 
English.  The  next  year,  in  the  month  of  June,  a  fleet, 
commanded  by  Admiral  Sir  Hovenden  Walker,  arrived 
iu  Boston  Harbor.  On  board  of  this  fleet  was  the  Eng 
lish  General  Hill,  with  seven  regiments  of  soldiers,  who 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  93 

had  been  fighting  under  the  Duke  of  Maryborough  in 
Flanders.  The  government  of  Massachusetts  was  called 
upon  to  find  provisions  for  the  army  and  fleet,  and  to 
raise  more  men  to  assist  in  taking  Canada. 

What  with  recruiting  and  drilling  of  soldiers,  there 
was  now  nothing  but  warlike  bustle  in  the  streets  of 
Boston.  The  drum  and  fife,  the  rattle  of  arms,  and  the 
shouts  of  boys  were  heard  from  morning  till  night.  In 
about  a  month  the  fleet  set  sail,  carrying  four  regiments 
from  New  England  and  New  York,  besides  the  English 
soldiers.  The  whole  army  amounted  to  at  least  seven 
thousand  men.  They  steered  for  the  mouth  of  the  river 
St.  Lawrence. 

"  Cotton  Mather  prayed  most  fervently  for  their  suc 
cess,"  continued  Grandfather,  "  both  in  his  pulpit  and 
when  he  kneeled  down  in  the  solitude  of  his  library,  rest 
ing  his  face  on  our  old  chair.  But  Providence  ordered 
the  result  otherwise.  In  a  few  weeks  tidings  were  re 
ceived  that  eight  or  nine  of  the  vessels  had  been  wrecked 
in  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  that  above  a  thousand  drowned 
soldiers  had  been  washed  ashore  on  the  banks  of  that 
mighty  river.  After  this  misfortune  Sir  Hovenden 
Walker  set  sail  for  England ;  and  many  pious  people 
began  to  think  it  a  sin  even  to  wish  for  the  conquest  of 
Canada." 

"  I  would  never  give  it  up  so,"  cried  Charley, 

"  Nor  did  they,  as  we  shall  see,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  However,  no  more  attempts  were  made  during  this  war, 
which  came  to  a  close  in  1713.  The  people  of  New  Eng 
land  were  probably  glad  of  some  repose ;  for  their  young 
men  had  been  made  soldiers,  till  many  of  them  were  fit 
for  nothing  else.  And  those  who  remained  at  home  had 
been  heavily  taxed  to  pay  for  the  arms,  ammunition,  for 
tifications,  and  all  the  other  endless  expenses  of  a  war. 


94  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

There  was  great  need  of  the  prayers  of  Cotton  Mather 
and  of  all  pious  men,  not  only  on  account  of  the  suffer 
ings  of  the  people,  but  because  the  old  moral  and  relig 
ious  character  of  New  England  was  in  danger  of  being 
utterly  lost." 

"  How  glorious  it  would  have  been,"  remarked  Lau 
rence,  "if  our  forefathers  could  have  kept  the  country 
unspotted  with  blood  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Grandfather ;  "  but  there  was  a  stern,  war 
like  spirit  in  them  from  the  beginning.  They  seem  never 
to  have  thought  of  questioning  either  the  morality  or 
piety  of  war." 

The  next  event  which  Grandfather  spoke  of  was  one 
that  Cotton  Mather,  as  well  as  most  of  the  other  inhabi 
tants  of  New  England,  heartily  rejoiced  at.  This  was  the 
accession  of  the  Elector  of  Hanover  to  the  throne  of  Eng 
land,  in  1714,  on  the  death  of  Queen  Anne.  Hitherto  the 
people  had  been  in  continual  dread  that  the  male  line  of 
the  Stuarts,  who  were  descended  from  the  beheaded  King 
Charles  and  the  banished  King  James,  would  be  restored 
to  the  throne.  In  that  case,  as  the  Stuart  family  were 
Roman  Catholics,  it  was  supposed  that  they  would  at 
tempt  to  establish  their  own  religion  throughout  the  Brit 
ish  dominions.  But  the  Elector  of  Hanover  and  all  his 
race  were  Protestants;  so  that  now  the  descendants  of 
the  old  Puritans  were  relieved  from  many  fears  and  dis 
quietudes. 

"  The  importance  of  this  event,"  observed  Grandfather, 
"was  a  thousand  times  greater  than  that  of  a  Presidential 
election  in  our  own  days.  If  the  people  dislike  their 
President,  they  may  get  rid  of  him  in  four  years ;  whereas 
a  dynasty  of  kings  may  wear  the  crown  for  an  unlimited 
period." 

The  German  elector  was  proclaimed  king  from  the  bal- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


95 


cony  of  the  town-house  in  Boston,  by  the  title  of  George 
1. ;  while  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  people  cried 
amen.  That  night  the  town  was  illuminated ;  and  Cot 
ton  Mather  threw  aside  book  and  pen,  and  left  Grand 
father's  chair  vacant,  while  he  walked  hither  and  thither 
to  witness  the  rejoicings. 


Ben 


CHAPTEE   V. 


gOTTON  MATHER,"  continued  Grandfather, 
"was  a  bitter  enemy  to  Governor  Dudley;  and 
nobody  exulted  more  than  he  when  that  crafty 
politician  was  removed  from  the  government,  and  suc 
ceeded  by  Colonel  Shute.  This  took  place  in  1716. 
The  new  governor  had  been  an  officer  in  the  renowned 
Duke  of  Maryborough's  army,  and  had  fought  in  some  of 
the  great  battles  in  Flanders." 

"Now  I  hope/'  said  Charley,  "we  shall  hear  of  his 
doing  great  things.'3 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  be  disappointed,  Charley,"  an 
swered  Grandfather.  "It  is  true  that  Colonel  Shute 
had  probably  never  led  so  unquiet  a  life  while  fighting 
the  French  as  lie  did  now,  while  governing  this  province 
of  Massachusetts  Bay.  But  his  troubles  consisted  al 
most  entirely  of  dissensions  with  the  Legislature.  The 
king  had  ordered  him  to  lay  claim  to  a  fixed  salary ;  but 
the  representatives  of  the  people  insisted  upon  paying 
him  only  such  sums  from  year  to  year  as  they  saw  fit." 

Grandfather  here  explained  some  of  the  circumstances 
that  made  the  situation  of  a  colonial  governor  so  difficult 
and  irksome.  There  was  not  the  same  feeling  towards 
the  chief  magistrate  now  that  had  existed  while  he  was 
chosen  by  the  free  suffrages  of  the  people.  It  was  felt 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  97 

that  as  the  king  appointed  the  governor,  and  as  he  held 
his  office  during  the  king's  pleasure,  it  would  be  his 
great  object  to  please  the  king.  But  the  people  thought 
that  a  governor  ought  to  have  nothing  in  view  but  the 
best  interests  of  those  whom  he  governed. 

"The  governor,"  remarked  Grandfather,  "had  two 
masters  to  serve, — the  king,  who  appointed  him;  and 
the  people,  on  whom  he  depended  for  his  pay.  Few 
men  in  this  position  would  have  ingenuity  enough  to 
satisfy  either  party.  Colonel  Shute,  though  a  good- 
natured,  well-meaning  man,  succeeded  so  ill  with  the 
people,  that,  in  1722,  he  suddenly  went  away  to  Eng 
land  and  made  complaint  to  King  George.  In  the  mean 
time  Lieutenant-Go vernor  Dummer  directed  the  affairs 
of  the  province,  and  carried  on  a  long  and  bloody  war 
with  the  Indians." 

"But  where  was  our  chair  all  this  time?"  asked 
Clara. 

"  It  still  remained  in  Cotton  Mather's  library,"  replied 
Grandfather;  "and  I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you  an  inci 
dent  which  is  very  much  to  the  honor  of  this  celebrated 
man.  It  is  the  more  proper,  too,  that  you  should  hear 
it,  because  it  will  show  you  what  a  terrible  calamity  the 
small-pox  was  to  our  forefathers.  The  history  of  the 
province  (and,  of  course,  the  history  of  our  chair)  would 
be  incomplete  without  particular  mention  of  it." 

Accordingly  Grandfather  told  the  children  a  story,  to 
which,  for  want  of  a  better  title,  we  shall  give  that  of 

THE  REJECTED  BLESSING. 

One  day,  in  1721,  Doctor  Cotton  Mather  sat  in  his 
library  reading  a  book  that  had  been  published  by  the 
Royal  Society  of  London.  But  every  few  moments  he 


98  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR. 

laid  the  book  upon  the  table,  and  leaned  back  in  Grand 
father's  chair  with  an  aspect  of  deep  care  and  disquietude. 
There  were  certain  things  which  troubled  him  exceed 
ingly,  so  that  he  could  hardly  fix  his  thoughts  upon  what 
he  read. 

It  was  now  a  gloomy  time  in  Boston.  That  terrible 
disease,  the  small-pox,  had  recently  made  its  appearance 
in  the  town.  Ever  since  the  first  settlement  of  the  coun 
try  this  awful  pestilence  had  come,  at  intervals,  and 
swept  away  multitudes  of  the  inhabitants.  Whenever  it 
commenced  its  ravages,  nothing  seemed  to  stay  its  pro 
gress  until  there  were  no  more  victims  for  it  to  seize 
upon.  Oftentimes  hundreds  of  people  at  once  lay  groan 
ing  with  its  agony ;  and  when  it  departed,  its  deep  foot 
steps  were  always  to  be  traced  in  many  graves. 

The  people  never  felt  secure  from  this  calamity. 
Sometimes,  perhaps,  it  was  brought  into  the  country  by 
a  poor  sailor,  who  had  caught  the  infection  in  foreign 
parts,  and  came  hither  to  die  and  to  be  the  cause  of 
many  deaths.  Sometimes,  no  doubt,  it  followed  in  the 
train  of  the  pompous  governors  when  they  came  over 
from  England.  Sometimes  the  disease  lay  hidden  in  the 
cargoes  of  ships,  among  silks,  and  brocades,  and  other 
costly  merchandise  which  was  imported  for  the  rich  peo 
ple  to  wear.  And  sometimes  it  started  up  seemingly  of 
its  own  accord,  and  nobody  could  tell  whence  it  came.' 
The  physician,  being  called  to  attend  the  sick  person, 
would  look  at  him,  and  say,  "  It  is  the  small-pox  !  Let 
the  patient  be  carried  to  the  hospital." 

And  now  this  dreadful  sickness  had  shown  itself  again 
in  Boston.  Cotton  Mather  was  greatly  afflicted  for  the 
sake  of  the  whole  province.  He  had  children,  too,  who 
were  exposed  to  the  danger.  At  that  very  moment  he 
heard  the  voice  of  his  youngest  son,  for  whom  his  heart 
was  moved  with  apprehension. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  99 

"  Alas  !  I  fear  for  that  poor  child,"  said  Cotton  Mather 
to  himself.  "  What  shall  I  do  for  my  son  Samuel  ?  " 

Again  he  attempted  to  drive  away  these  thoughts  by 
taking  up  the  book  which  he  had  been  reading.  And 
now,  all  of  a  sudden,  his  attention  became  fixed.  The 
book  contained  a  printed  letter  that  an  Italian  physician 
had  written  upon  the  very  subject  about  which  Cotton 
Mather  was  so  anxiously  meditating.  He  ran  his  eye 
eagerly  over  the  pages ;  and,  behold  !  a  method  was  dis 
closed  to  him  by  which  the  small-pox  might  be  robbed  of 
its  worst  terrors.  Such  a  method  was  known  in  Greece. 
The  physicians  of  Turkey,  too,  those  long-bearded  Eastern 
sages,  had  been  acquainted  with  it  for  many  years.  The 
negroes  of  Africa,  ignorant  as  they  were,  had  likewise 
practised  it,  and  thus  had  shown  themselves  wiser  than 
the  white  men. 

"  Of  a  truth,"  ejaculated  Cotton  Mather,  clasping  his 
hands  and  looking  up  to  heaven,  "  it  was  a  merciful 
Providence  that  brought  this  book  under  mine  eye.  I 
will  procure  a  consultation  of  physicians,  and  see  whether 
this  wondrous  inoculation  may  not  stay  the  progress  of 
the  destroyer." 

So  he  arose  from  Grandfather's  chair  and  went  out 
of  the  library.  Near  the  door  he  met  his  son  Samuel, 
who  seemed  downcast  and  out  of  spirits.  The  boy  had 
heard,  probably,  that  some  of  his  playmates  were  taken 
ill  with  the  small-pox.  But,  as  his  father  looked  cheer 
fully  at  him,  Samuel  took  courage,  trusting  that  either 
the  wisdom  of  so  learned  a  minister  would  find  some 
remedy  for  the  danger,  or  else  that  his  prayers  would 
secure  protection  from  on  high. 

Meanwhile  Cotton  Mather  took  his  staff  and  three- 
cornered  hat  and  walked  about  the  streets,  calling  at  the 
houses  of  all  the  physicians  in  Boston.  They  were  a 


100  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

very  wise  fraternity;  and  their  huge  wigs,  and  black 
dresses,  and  solemn  visages  made  their  wisdom  appear 
even  profounder  than  it  was.  One  after  another  he 
acquainted  them  with  the  discovery  which  he  had  hit 
upon. 

But  the  grave  and  sagacious  personages  would  scarcely 
listen  to  him.  The  oldest  doctor  in  town  contented  him 
self  with  remarking  that  no  such  thing  as  inoculation 
was  mentioned  by  Galen  or  Hippocrates;  and  it  was 
impossible  that  modern  physicians  should  be  wiser  than 
those  old  sages.  A  second  held  up  his  hands  in  dumb 
astonishment  and  horror  at  the  madness  of  what  Cotton 
Mather  proposed  to  do.  A  third  told  him,  in  pretty 
plain  terms,  that  he  knew  not  what  he  was  talking  about. 
A  fourth  requested,  in  the  name  of  the  whole  medical 
fraternity,  that  Cotton  Mather  would  confine  his  atten 
tion  to  people's  souls,  and  leave  the  physicians  to  take 
care  of  their  bodies. 

In  short,  there  was  but  a  single  doctor  among  them 
all  who  would  grant  the  poor  minister  so  much  as  a 
patient  hearing.  This  was  Doctor  •  Zabdiel  Boylston. 
He  looked  into  the  matter  like  a  man  of  sense,  and  find 
ing,  beyond  a  doubt,  that  inoculation  had  rescued  many 
from  death,  he  resolved  to  try  the  experiment  in  his  own 
family. 

And  so  he  did.  But  when  the  other  physicians  heard 
of  it  they  arose  in  great  fury  and  began  a  war  of  words, 
written,  printed,  and  spoken,  against  Cotton  Mather  and 
Doctor  Boylston.  To  hear  them  talk,  you  would  have 
supposed  that  these  two  harmless  and  benevolent  men 
had  plotted  the  ruin  of  the  country. 

The  people,  also,  took  the  alarm.  Many,  who  thought 
themselves  more  pious  than  their  neighbors,  contended 
that,  if  Providence  had  ordained  them  to  die  of  the  small- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  101 

pox,  it  was  sinful  to  aim  at  preventing  it.  The  strangest 
reports  were  in  circulation.  Some  said  that  Doctor 
Boylston  had  contrived  a  method  for  conveying  the  gout, 
rheumatism,  sick-headache,  asthma,  and  all  other  diseases 
from  one  person  to  another,  and  diffusing  them  through 
the  whole  community.  Others  flatly  affirmed  that  the 
evil  one  had  got  possession  of  Cotton  Mather,  and  was  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  business. 

You  must  observe,  children,  that  Cotton  Mather's  fel 
low-citizens  were  generally  inclined  to  doubt  the  wisdom 
of  any  measure  which  he  might  propose  to  them.  They 
recollected  how  he  had  led  them  astray  in  the  old  witch 
craft  delusion ;  and  now,  if  he  thought  and  acted  ever  so 
wisely,  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  get  the  credit  of  it. 

The  people's  wrath  grew  so  hot  at  his  attempt  to 
guard  them  from  the  small-pox  that  he  could  not  walk 
the  streets  in  peace.  Whenever  the  venerable  form  of 
the  old  minister,  meagre  and  haggard  with  fasts  and 
vigils,  was  seen  approaching,  hisses  were  heard,  and 
shouts  of  derision,  and  scornful  and  bitter  laughter.  The 
women  snatched  away  their  children  from  his  path,  lest 
he  should  do  them  a  mischief.  Still,  however,  bending 
his  head  meekly,  and  perhaps  stretching  out  his  hands  to 
bless  those  who  reviled  him,  he  pursued  his  way.  But 
the  tears  came  into  his  eyes  to  think  how  blindly  the 
people  rejected  the  means  of  safety  that  were  offered 
them. 

Indeed,  there  were  melancholy  sights  enough  in  the 
streets  of  Boston  to  draw  forth  the  tears  of  a  compassion 
ate  man.  Over  the  door  of  almost  every  dwelling  a  red 
flag  was  fluttering  in  the  air.  This  was  the  signal  that 
the  small-pox  had  entered  the  house  and  attacked  some 
member  of  the  family  ;  or  perhaps  the  whole  family,  old 
and  young,  were  struggling  at  ones  with  the  pestilence. 


102  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Friends  and  relatives,  when  they  met  one  another  in  the 
streets,  would  hurry  onward  without  a  grasp  of  the  hand 
or  scarcely  a  word  of  greeting,  lest  they  should  catch  or 
communicate  the  contagion  ;  and  often  a  coffin  was  borne 
hastily  along. 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  "  said  Cotton  Mather  to  himself,  "  what 
shall  be  done  for  this  poor,  misguided  people  ?  0  that 
Providence  would  open  their  eyes,  and  enable  them  to 
discern  good  from  evil !  " 

So  furious,  however,  were  the  people,  that  they  threat 
ened  vengeance  against  any  person  who  should  dare  to 
practise  inoculation,  though  it  were  only  in  his  own  fam 
ily.  This  was  a  hard  case  for  Cotton  Mather,  who  saw 
no  other  way  to  rescue  his  poor  child  Samuel  from  the 
disease.  But  he  resolved  to  save  him,  even  if  his  house 
should,  be  burned  over  his  head. 

"I  will  not  be  turned  aside,"  said  he.  " My  towns 
men  shall  see  that  I  have  faith  in  this  thing,  when  I  make 
the  experiment  on  my  beloved  son,  whose  life  is  dearer 
to  me  than  my  own.  And  when  I  have  saved  Samuel, 
peradventure  they  will  be  persuaded  to  save  themselves." 

Accordingly  Samuel  was  inoculated  ;  and  so  was  Mr. 
"Walter,  a  son-in-law  of  Cotton  Mather.  Doctor  Boyl- 
ston,  likewise,  inoculated  many  persons  ;  and  while  hun 
dreds  died  who  had  caught  the  contagion  from  the  gar 
ments  of  the  sick,  almost  all  were  preserved  who  followed 
the  wise  physician's  advice. 

But  the  people  were  not  yet  convinced  of  their  mis 
take.  One  night  a  destructive  little  instrument,  called  a 
hand-grenade,  was  thrown  into  Cotton  Mather's  window, 
and  rolled  under  Grandfather's  chair.  It  was  supposed 
to  be  filled  with  gunpowder,  the  explosion  of  which 
would  have  blown  the  poor  minister  to  atoms.  But  the 
best  informed  historians  are  of  opinion  that  the  grenade 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  103 

contained  only  brimstone  and  assafoetida,  and  was  meant 
to  plague  Cotton  Mather  with  a  very  evil  perfume. 

This  is  no  strange  thing  in  human  experience.  Men 
who  attempt  to  do  the  world  more  good  than  the  world  is 
able  entirely  to  comprehend  are  almost  invariably  held  in 
bad  odor.  But  yet,  if  the  wise  and  good  man  can  wait 
awhile,  either  the  present  generation  or  posterity  will  do 
him  justice.  So  it  proved  in  the  case  which  we  have 
been  speaking  of.  In  after  years,  when  inoculation  was 
universally  practised  and  thousands  were  saved  from 
death  by  it,  the  people  remembered  old  Cotton  Mather, 
then  sleeping  in  his  grave.  They  acknowledged  that  the 
very  thing  for  which  they  had  so  reviled  and  persecuted 
him  was  the  best  and  wisest  thing  he  ever  did. 

"  Grandfather,  this  is  not  an  agreeable  story,"  observed 
Clara. 

"  No,  Clara,"  replied  Grandfather.  "  But  it  is  right 
that  you  should  know  what  a  dark  shadow  this  disease 
threw  over  the  times  of  our  forefathers.  And  now,  if  you 
wish  to  learn  more  about  Cotton  Mather,  you  must  read 
his  biography,  written  by  Mr.  Peabody,  of  Springfield. 
You  will  find  it  very  entertaining  and  instructive ;  but 
perhaps  the  writer  is  somewhat  too  harsh  in  his  judgment 
of  this  singular  man.  He  estimates  him  fairly,  indeed, 
and  understands  him  well;  but  he  unriddles  his  character 
rather  by  acuteness  than  by  sympathy.  Now,  his  life 
should  have  been  written  by  one  who,  knowing  all  his 
faults,  would  nevertheless  love  him." 

So  Grandfather  made  an  end  of  Cotton  Mather,  telling 
his  auditors  that  he  died  in  1728,  at  the  age  of  sixty- 
five,  and  bequeathed  the  chair  to  Elisha  Cooke.  This 
gentleman  was  a  famous  advocate  of  the  people's  rights. 

The  same  year  William  Burnet,  a  son  of  the  celebrated 


104  GUAXDFATHEll'S    CHAIR. 

Bishop  Burnet,  arrived  in  Boston  with  the  commission 
of  governor.  He  was  Hie  first  that  had  been  appointed 
since  the  departure  of  Colonel  Shute.  Governor  Burnet 
took  up  his  residence  with  Mr.  Cooke  while  the  Province 
House  was  undergoing  repairs.  During  this  period  lie 
was  always  complimented  with  a  seat  in  Grandfather's 
chair ;  and  so  comfortable  did  he  find  it,  that,  on  remov 
ing  to  the  Province  House,  he  could  not  bear  to  leave 
it  behind  him.  Mr.  Cooke,  therefore,  requested  his  ac 
ceptance  of  it. 

"  I  should  think,"  said  Laurence,  "  that  the  people 
would  have  petitioned  the  king  always  to  appoint  a 
native-born  New-Englander  to  govern  them." 

"  Undoubtedly  it  \vas  a  grievance,"  answered  Grand 
father,  "to  see  men  placed  in  this  station  who  perhaps 
had  neither  talents  nor  virtues  to  fit  them  for  it,  and 
who  certainly  could  have  no  natural  affection  for  the 
country.  The  king  generally  bestowed  the  governor 
ships  of  the  American  colonies  upon  needy  noblemen, 
or  hangers-on  at  court,  or  disbanded  officers.  The  peo 
ple  knew  that  such  persons  would  be  very  likely  to  make 
the  good  of  the  country  subservient  to  the  wishes  of  the 
king.  The  Legislature,  therefore,  endeavored  to  keep 
as  much  power  as  possible  in  their  own  hands,  by  refus 
ing  to  settle  a  fixed  salary  upon  the  governors.  It  was 
thought  better  to  pay  them  according  to  their  deserts." 

"  Did  Governor  Burnet  work  well  for  his  money  ?  " 
asked  Charley. 

Grandfather  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  simplicity  of 
Charley's  question.  Nevertheless,  it  put  the  matter  ill 
a  very  plain  point  of  view. 

He  then  described  the  character  of  Governor  Burnet, 
representing  him  as  a  good  scholar,  possessed  of  much 
ability,  and  likewise  of  unspotted  integrity.  His  story 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  105 

affords  a  striking  example  how  unfortunate  it  is  for  a 
man,  who  is  placed  as  ruler  over  a  country,  to  be  com 
pelled  to  aim  at  anything  but  the  good  of  the  people. 
Governor  Burnet  was  so  chained  down  by  his  instruc 
tions  from  the  king  that  he  could  not  act  as  he  might 
otherwise  have  wished.  Consequently,  his  whole  term 
of  office  was  wasted  in  quarrels  with  the  Legislature. 

"  I  am  afraid,  children,"  said  Grandfather,  "  that  Gov 
ernor  Burnet  found  but  little  rest  or  comfort  in  our  old 
chair.  Here  he  used  to  sit,  dressed  in  a  coat  which  was 
made  of  rough,  shaggy  cloth  outside,  but  of  smooth  vel 
vet  within.  It  was  said  that  his  own  character  resem 
bled  that  coat ;  for  his  outward  manner  was  rough,  but 
his  inward  disposition  soft  and  kind.  It  is  a  pity  that 
such  a  man  could  not  have  been  kept  free  from  trouble. 
But  so  harassing  were  his  disputes  with  the  represent 
atives  of  the  people  that  he  fell  into  a  fever,  of  which  he 
died  in  1729.  The  Legislature  had  refused  him  a  salary 
while  alive ;  but  they  appropriated  money  enough  to 
give  him  a  splendid  and  pompous  funeral." 

And  now  Grandfather  perceived  that  little  Alice  had 
fallen  fast  asleep,  with  her  head  upon  his  footstool.  In 
deed,  as  Clara  observed,  she  had  been  sleeping  from  the 
time  of  Sir  Hovenden  Walker's  expedition  against  Quebec 
until  the  death  of  Governor  Burnet, — a  period  of  about 
eighteen  years.  And  yet,  after  so  long  a  nap,  sweet  little 
Alice  was  a  golden-haired  child  of  scarcely  five  years  old. 

"  It  puts  me  in  mind,"  said  Laurence,  "  of  the  story 
of  the  enchanted  princess,  who  slept  many  a  hundred 
years,  and  awoke  as  young  and  beautiful  as  ever." 


5* 


CHAPTER   VI. 

FEW  evenings  afterwards,  cousin  Clara  hap 
pened  to  inquire  of  Grandfather  whether  the 

old  chair  had  never  been  present  at  a  ball.  At 

the  same  time  little  Alice  brought  forward  a  doll,  with 
whom  she  had  been  holding  a  long  conversation. 

"  See,  Grandfather  !  "  cried  she.  "  Did  such  a  pretty 
lady  as  this  ever  sit  in  your  great  chair?  " 

These  questions  led  Grandfather  to  talk  about  the  fash 
ions  and  manners  which  now  began  to  be  introduced  from 
England  into  the  provinces.  The  simplicity  of  the  good 
old  Puritan  times  was  fast  disappearing.  This  was  partly 
owing  to  the  increasing  number  and  wealth  of  the  inhab 
itants,  and  to  the  additions  which  they  continually  received 
by  the  arrival  and  settlement  of  people  from  beyond  the 
sea. 

Another  cause  of  a  pompous  and  artificial  mode  of  life, 
among  those  who  could  afford  it,  was,  that  the  example 
was  set  by  the  royal  governors.  Under  the  old  charter, 
the  governors  were  the  representatives  of  the  people,  and 
therefore  their  way  of  living  had  probably  been  marked 
by  a  popular  simplicity.  But  now,  as  they  represented 
the  person  of  the  king,  they  thought  it  necessary  to  pre 
serve  the  dignity  of  their  station  by  the  practice  of  high 
and  gorgeous  ceremonials.  And,  besides,  the  profitable 


//> 

'   /      u«r  I        /  nV-^  V 
GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  107 

offices  under  the  government  were  filled  by  men  who  had 
lived  in  London,  and  had  there  contracted  fashionable 
and  luxurious  habits  of  living  which  they  would  not 
now  lay  aside.  The  wealthy  people  of  the  province  im 
itated  them ;  and  thus  began  a  general  change  in  social 
life. 

"  So,  my  dear  Clara,"  said  Grandfather,  "  after  our 
chair  had  entered  the  Province  House,  it  must  often 
have  been  present  at  balls  and  festivals  ;  though  I  can 
not  give  you  a  description  of  any  particular  one.  But  I 
doubt  not  that  they  were  very  magnificent ;  and  slaves  in 
gorgeous  liveries  waited  on  the  guests,  and  offered  them 
wine  in  goblets  of  massive  silver." 

"  Were  there  slaves  in  those  days  ! "  exclaimed  Clara. 

"  Yes,  black  slaves  and  white,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  Our  ancestors  not  only  brought  negroes  from  Africa, 
but  Indians  from  South  America,  and  white  people  from 
Ireland.  These  last  were  sold,  not  for  life,  but  for  a  cer 
tain  number  of  years,  in  order  to  pay  the  expenses  of 
their  voyage  across  the  Atlantic.  Nothing  was  more 
common  than  to  see  a  lot  of  likely  Irish  girls  advertised 
for  sale  in  the  newspapers.  As  for  the  little  negro  babies, 
they  were  offered  to  be  given  away  like  young  kittens." 

"  Perhaps  Alice  would  have  liked  one  to  play  with,  in 
stead  of  her  doll,"  said  Charley,  laughing. 

But  little  Alice  clasped  the  waxen  doll  closer  to  her 
bosom. 

"  Now,  as  for  this  pretty  doll,  my  little  Alice,"  said 
Grandfather,  "  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  what  splendid 
dresses  the  ladies  wore  in  those  times.  They  had  silks, 
and  satins,  and  damasks,  and  brocades,  and  high  head 
dresses,  and  all  sorts  of  fine  things.  And  they  used  to 
wear  hooped  petticoats,  of  such  enormous  size  that  it  was 
quite  a  journey  to  walk  round  them." 


108  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  And  how  did  the  gentlemen  dress  ? "  asked  Charley. 

"  With  full  as  much  magnificence  as  the  ladies,"  an 
swered  Grandfather.  "  For  their  holiday  suits  they  had 
coats  of  figured  velvet,  crimson,  green,  blue,  and  all  other 
gay  colors,  embroidered  with  gold  or  silver  lace.  Their 
waistcoats,  which  were  five  times  as  large  as  modern 
ones,  were  very  splendid.  Sometimes  the  whole  waist 
coat,  which  came  down  almost  to  the  knees,  was  made  of 
gold  brocade." 

"  Why,  the  wearer  must  have  shone  like  a  golden 
image  !  "  said  Clara. 

"And  then,"  continued  Grandfather,  "they  wore  va 
rious  sorts  of  periwigs,  such  as  the  tie,  the  spencer,  the 
brigadier,  the  major,  the  albemarle,  the  ramilies,  the 
feather  top,  and  the  full  bottom.  Their  three-cornered 
hats  were  laced  with  gold  or  silver.  They  had  shining 
buckles  at  the  knees  of  their  small-clothes,  and  buckles 
likewise  in  their  shoes.  They  wore  sAvords  with  beau 
tiful  hilts,  either  of  silver,  or  sometimes  of  polished  steel, 
inlaid  with  gold. 

"0,  I  should  like  to  wear  a  sword  !"  cried  Charley. 

"  And  an  embroidered  crimson  velvet  coat,"  said  Clara, 
laughing,  "and  a  gold  brocade  waistcoat  down  to  }rour 
knees !  " 

"  And  knee-buckles  and  shoe-buckles,"  said  Laurence, 
laughing  also. 

"And  a  periwig,"  added  little  Alice,  soberly,  not 
knowing  what  was  the  article  of  dress  which  she  recom 
mended  to  our  friend  Charley. 

Grandfather  smiled  at  the  idea  of  Charley's  sturdy  little 
figure  in  such  a,  grotesque  caparison.  He  then  went  on 
with  the  history  of  the  chair,  and  told  the  children  that, 
in  1730,  King  George  II.  appointed  Jonathan  Belcher  to 
be  governor  of  Massachusetts  in  place  of  the  deceased 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  .      109 

Governor  Burnet.  Mr.  Belcher  was  a  native  of  the 
province,  but  had  spent  much  of  his  life  in  Europe. 

The  new  governor  found  Grandfather's  chair  in  the 
Province  House.  He  was  struck  with  its  noble  and 
stately  aspect,  but  was  of  opinion  that  age  and  hard  ser 
vices  had  made  it  scarcely  so  fit  for  courtly  company  as 
when  it  stood  in  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  hall.  Wherefore, 
as  Governor  Belcher  was  fond  of  splendor,  he  employed  a 
skilful  artist  to  beautify  the  chair.  This  was  done  by  pol 
ishing  and  varnishing  it,  and  by  gilding  the  carved  work 
of  the  elbows,  and  likewise  the  oaken  flowers  of  the  back. 
The  lion's  head  now  shone  like  a  veritable  lump  of  gol$. 
Finally  Governor  Belcher  gave  the  chair  a  cushion  of 
blue  damask,  with  a  rich  golden  fringe. 

"  Our  good  old  chair  being  thus  glorified,"  proceeded 
Grandfather,  "  it  glittered  with  a  great  deal  more  splen 
dor  than  it  had  exhibited  just  a  century  before,  when  the 
Lady  Arbella  brought  it  over  from  England.  Most  peo 
ple  mistook  it  for  a  chair  of  the  latest  London  fashion. 
And  this  may  serve  for  an  example,  that  there  is  almost 
always  an  old  and  time-worn  substance  under  all  the  glit 
tering  show  of  new  invention." 

"Grandfather,  I  cannot  see  any  of  the  gilding,"  re 
marked  Charley,  who  had  been  examining  the  chair  very 
minutely. 

"  You  will  not  wonder  that  it  has  been  rubbed  off," 
replied  Grandfather,  "  when  you  hear  all  the  adventures 
that  have  since  befallen  the,  chair.  Gilded  it  was ;  and 
the  handsomest  room  in  the  Province  House  was  adorned 
by  it." 

There  was  not  much  to  interest  the  children  in  what 
happened  during  the  years  that  Governor  Belcher  re 
mained  in  the  chair.  At  first,  like  Colonel  Shute  and 
Governor  Burnet,  he  was  engaged  in  disputing  with  the 


110  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Legislature  about  his  salary.  But,  as  he  found  it  impos 
sible  to  get  a  fixed  sum,  he  filially  obtained  the  king's 
leave  to  accept  whatever  the  Legislature  chose  to  give 
him.  And  thus  the  people  triumphed,  after  this  long 
contest  for  the  privilege  of  expending  their  own  money 
as  they  saw  fit. 

The  remainder  of  Governor  Belcher's  term  of  office 
was  principally  taken  up  in  endeavoring  to  settle  the 
currency.  Honest  John  Hull's  pine-tree  shillings  had 
long  ago  been  worn  out,  or  lost,  or  melted  down  again ; 
and  their  place  was  supplied  by  bills  of  paper  or  parchment, 
which  were  nominally  valued  at  threepence  and  upwards. 
The  value  of  these  bills  kept  continually  sinking,  because 
the  real  hard  money  could  not  be  obtained  for  them. 
They  were  a  great  deal  worse  than  the  old  Indian  cur 
rency  of  clam-shells.  These  disorders  of  the  circulating 
medium  were  a  source  of  endless  plague  and  perplexity 
to  the  rulers  and  legislators,  not  only  in  Governor  Bel 
cher's  days,  but  for  many  years  before  and  afterwards. 

Finally  the  people  suspected  that  Governor  Belcher 
was  secretly  endeavoring  to  establish  the  Episcopal  mode 
of  worship  in  the  provinces.  There  was  enough  of  the 
old  Puritan  spirit  remaining  to  cause  most  of  the  true 
sons  of  New  England  to  look  with  horror  upon  such  an 
attempt.  Great  exertions  were  made  to  induce  the  king 
to  remove  the  governor.  Accordingly,  in  1740,  he  was 
compelled  to  resign  his  office,  and  Grandfather's  chair 
into  the  bargain,  to  Mr.  Shirley. 


CHA.PTER    VII. 

ILLIAM  SHIRLEY,"  said  Grandfather,  "had 
come  from  England  a  few  years  before,  and 
begun  to  practise  law  in  Boston.  You  will 
think,  perhaps,  that,  as  he  had  been  a  lawyer,  the  new 
governor  used  to  sit  in  our  great  chair  reading  heavy  law- 
books  from  morning  till  night.  On  the  contrary,  he  was 
as  stirring  and  active  a  governor  as  Massachusetts  ever 
had.  Even  Sir  William  Phipps  hardly  equalled  him. 
The  first  year  or  two  of  his  administration  was  spent  in 
trying  to  regulate  the  currency.  But  in  1744,  after  a 
peace  of  more  than  thirty  years,  war  broke  out  between 
E ranee  and  England." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  said  Charley,  "  the  governor  went 
to  take  Canada." 

"Not  exactly,  Charley,"  said  .Grandfather ;  "though 
you  have  made  a  pretty  shrewd  conjecture.  He  planned, 
in  1745,  an  expedition  against  Louisburg.  This  was  a 
fortified  city,  on  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  near  Nova 
Scotia.  Its  walls  were  of  immense  height  and  strength, 
and  were  defended  by  hundreds  of  heavy  cannon.  It  was 
the  strongest  fortress  which  the  Erench  possessed  in 
America;  and  if  the  king  of  Erance  had  guessed  Gov 
ernor  Shirley's  intentions,  he  would  have  sent  all  the 
ships  he  could  muster  to  protect  it." 


112  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

As  the  siege  of  Louisbnrg  was  one  of  ihe  most  remark 
able  events  that  ever  the  inhabitants  of  New  England 
were  engaged  in,  Grandfather  endeavored  to  give  his 
auditors  a  lively  idea  of  the  spirit  with  which  they  set 
iibout  it.  We  shall  call  his  description 

THE  PROVINCIAL  MUSTER. 

The  expedition  against  Louisburg  first  began  to  be 
thought  of  in  the  month  of  January.  From  that  time 
the  governor's  chair  was  continually  surrounded  by  coun 
cillors,  representatives,  clergymen,  captains,  pilots,  and 
all  manner  of  people,  with  whom  he  consulted  about 
this  wonderful  project. 

First  of  all,  it  was  necessary  to  provide  men  and  arms. 
The  Legislature  immediately  sent  out  a  huge  quantity  of 
paper-money,  with  which,  as  if  by  magic  spell,  the  gov 
ernor  hoped  to  get  possession  of  all  the  old  cannon,  pow 
der  and  balls,  rusty  swords  and  muskets,  and  everything 
else  that  would  be  serviceable  in  killing  Frenchmen. 
Drums  were  beaten  in  all  the  villages  of  Massachusetts 
to  enlist  soldiers  for  the  service.  Messages  were  sent  to 
the  other  governors  of  New  England,  and  to  New  York 
and  Pennsylvania,  entreating  them  to  unite  in  this  cru 
sade  against  the  French.  All  these  provinces  agreed  to 
give  what  assistance  they  could. 

But  there  was  one  very  important  thing  to  be  decided. 
Who  shall  be  the  general  of  this  great  army  ?  Peace 
had  continued  such  an  unusual  length  of  time,  that  there 
was  now  less  military  experience  among  the  colonists 
than  at  any  former  period.  The  old  Puritans  had  always 
kept  their  weapons  bright,  and  were  never  destitute  of 
warlike  captains  who  were  skilful  in  assault  or  defence. 
But  the  swords  of  their  descendants  had  grown  rusty  by 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  113 

disuse.  There  was  nobody  in  New  England  that  knew 
anything  about  sieges  or  any  other  regular  fighting.  The 
only  person^  at  all  acquainted  with  warlike  business  were 
a  few  elderly  men,  who  had  hunted  Indians  through  the 
underbrush  of  the  forest  in  old  Governor  Duinmer's 
war. 

In  this  dilemma  Governor  Shirley  fixed  upon  a  wealthy 
merchant,  named  William  Pepperell,  who  was  pretty  well 
known  and  liked  among  the  people.  As  to  military  skill, 
he  had  no  more  of  it  than  his  neighbors.  But,  as  the 
governor  urged  him  very  pressingly,  Mr.  Pepperell  con 
sented  to  shut  up  his  ledger,  gird  on  a  sword,  and  assume 
the  title  of  general. 

Meantime,  what  a  hubbub  was  raised  by  this  scheme ! 
Itub-a-dub-dub  !  rub-a-dub-dub !  The  rattle  of  drums, 
beaten  out  of  all  manner  of  time,  was  heard  above  every 
other  sound. 

Nothing  now  was  so  valuable  as  arms,  of  whatever 
style  and  fashion  they  might  be.  The  bellows  blew,  and 
the  hammer  clanged  continually  upon  the  anvil,  while  the 
blacksmiths  were  repairing  the  broken  weapons  of  other 
wars.  Doubtless  some  of  the  soldiers  lugged  out  those 
enormous,  heavy  muskets  which  used  to  be  fired,  with 
rests,  in  the  time  of  the  early  Puritans.  Great  horse- 
pistols,  too,  were  found,  which  would  go  off  with  a  bang 
like  a  cannon.  Old  cannon,  with  touchholes  almost  as 
big  as  their  muzzles,  were  looked  upon  as  inestimable 
treasures.  Pikes  which,  perhaps,  had  been  handled  by 
Miles  Standish's  soldiers,  now  made  their  appearance 
again.  Many  a  young  man  ransacked  the  garret  and 
brought  forth  his  great-grandfather's  sword,  corroded 
with  rust  and  stained  with  the  blood  of  Kin"-  Philip's 
,War. 

Never  had  there  been  sucli  an  arming  as  this,  when  a 

n 


114  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

people,  so  long  peaceful,  rose  to  the  war  with  the  best 
weapons  that  they  could  lay  their  hands  upon.  And 
still  the  drums  were  heard  —  rub-a-dub-dub?  rub-a-dub- 
dub  !  —  in  all  the  towns  and  villages ;  and  louder  and 
more  numerous  grew  the  trampling  footsteps  of  the 
recruits  that  inarched  behind. 

And  now  the  army  began  to  gather  into  Boston. 
Tall,  lanky,  awkward  fellows  came  in  squads,  and  com 
panies,  and  regiments,  swaggering  along,  dressed  in  their 
brown  homespun  clothes  and  blue  yarn  stockings.  They 
stooped  as  if  they  still  had  hold  of  the  plough-handles, 
and  marched  without  any  time  or  tune.  Hither  they 
came,  from  the  cornfields,  from  the  clearing  in  the  forest, 
from  the  blacksmith's  forge,  from  the  carpenter's  work 
shop,  and  from  the  shoemaker's  seat.  They  were  an 
army  of  rough  faces  and  sturdy  frames.  A  trained  offi 
cer  of  Europe  would  have  laughed  at  them  till  his  sides 
had  ached.  But  there  was  a  spirit  in  their  bosoms  which 
is  more  essential,  to  soldiership  than  to  wear  red  coats 
and  march  in  stately  ranks  to  the  sound  of  regular 
music. 

Still  was  heard  the  beat  of  the  drum,  —  rub-a-dub- 
dub  !  And  now  a  host  of  three  or  four  thousand  men 
had  found  their  way  to  Boston.  Little  quiet  \vas  there 
then  !  Forth  scampered  the  school-boys,  shouting  behind 
the  drums.  The  whole  town,  the  whole  land,  was  on 
fire  with  war. 

After  the  arrival  of  the  troops,  they  were  probably  re 
viewed  upon  the  Common.  We  may  imagine  Governor 
Shirley  and  General  Pepperell  riding  slowly  along  ihe 
line,  while  the  drummers  beat  strange  old  tunes,  like 
psalm-tunes,  and  all  the  officers  and  soldiers  put  on  their 
most  warlike  looks.  It  would  have  been  a  terrible  sight 
for  the  Frenchmen,  could  they  but  have  witnessed  it ! 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR,  115 

At  length,  on  the  24th  of  March,  1745,  the  army  gave 
a  parting  shout,  and  set  sail  from  Boston  in  ten  or 
twelve  vessels  which  had  been  hired  by  the  governor. 
A  few  days  afterwards  an  English  fleet,  commanded  by 
Commodore  Peter  Warren,  sailed  also  for  Louisbnrg  to 
assist  the  provincial  army.  So  now,  after  all  this  bustlo 
of  preparation,  the  town  and  province  were  left  in  still 
ness  and  repose. 

But  stillness  and  repose,  at  such  a  time  of  anxious 
expectation,  are  hard  to  bear.  The  hearts  of  the  old 
people  and  women  sunk  within  them  when  they  reflected 
what  perils  they  had  sent  their  sons,  and  husbands,  and 
brothers  to  encounter.  The  boys  loitered  heavily  to 
school,  missing  the  rub-a-dub-dub  and  the  trampling 
march,  in  the  rear  of  which  they  had  so  lately  run  and 
shouted.  All  the  ministers  prayed  earnestly  in  their 
pulpits  for  a  blessing  on  the  army  of  New  England.  In 
every  family,  when  the  good  man  lifted  up  his  heart  in 
domestic  worship,  the  burden  of  his  petition  was  for  tho 
safety  of  those  dear  ones  who  were  fighting  under  the 
walls  of  Louisburg. 

Governor  Shirley  all  this  time  was  probably  in  an  ec 
stasy  of  impatience.  He  could  not  sit  still  a  moment. 
He  found  no  quiet,  n6t  even  in  Grandfather's  chair ;  but 
hurried  to  and  fro,  and  up  and  down  the  staircase  of  the 
Province  House.  Now  he  mounted  to  the  cupola  and 
looked  seaward,  straining  his  eyes  to  discover  if  there 
were  a  sail  upon  the  horizon.  Now  he  hastened  down 
the  stairs,  and  stood  beneath  the  portal,  on  the  red  free 
stone  steps,  to  receive  some  mud-bespattered  courier, 
from  whom  he  hoped  to  hear  tidings  of  the  army.  A 
few  weeks  after  the  departure  of  the  troops,  Commodore 
Warren  sent  a  small  vessel  to  Boston  with  two  French 
prisoners.  One  of  them  was  Monsieur  Bouladrie,  who 


116  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

had  been  commander  of  a  battery  outside  of  the  walls 
of  Louisburg.  The  other  was  the  Marquis  de  la  Maison 
Forte,  captain  of  a  French  frigate  which  had  been  taken 
by  Commodore  Warren's  fleet.  These  prisoners  assured 
Governor  Shirley  that  the  fortifications  of  Louisburg 
were  far  too  strong  ever  to  be  stormed  by  the  provincial 
army. 

Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  went  on.  The 
people  grew  almost  heart-sick  with  anxiety;  for  the 
flower  of  the  country  was  at  peril  in  this  adventurous 
expedition.  It  was  now  daybreak  on  the  morning  of 
the  3d  of  July. 

But  hark  !  what  sound  is  this  ?  The  hurried  clang  of 
a  bell!  There  is  the  Old- North  pealing  suddenly  out! 
—  there  the  Old  South  strikes  in  !  — now  the  peal  comes 
from  the  church  in  Brattle  Street !  —  the  bells  of  nine  or 
ten  steeples  are  all  flinging  their  iron  voices  at  once  upon 
the  morning  breeze  !  Is  it  joy,  or  alarm  ?  There  goes 
the  roar  of  a  cannon  too  !  A  royal  salute  is  thundered 
forth.  And  now  we  hear  the  loud  exulting  shout  of 
a  multitude  assembled  in  the  street.  Huzza!  huzza! 
Louisburg  has  surrendered !  Huzza  ! 

"  0  Grandfather,  how  glad  I  should  have  been  to  live 
in  those  times  !  "  cried  Charley.  "  And  what  reward 
did  the  king  give  to  General  Pepperelt  and  Governor 
Shirley  ?  " 

"  He  made  Pepperell  a  baronet ;  so  that  he  was  now 
to  be  called  Sir  William  Pepperell,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  He  likewise  appointed  both  Pepperell  and  Shirley  to  be 
colonels  in  the  royal  army.  These  rewards,  and  higher 
ones,  were  well  deserved ;  for  this  was  the  greatest 
triumph  that  the  English  met  with  in  the  whole  course 
of  that  war.  General  Pepperell  became  a  man  of  great 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  117 

fame.  I  have  seen  a  full-length  portrait  of  him,  repre 
senting  him  in  a  splendid  scarlet  uniform,  standing  before 
the  walls  of  Louisburg,  while  several  bombs  are  falling 
through  the  air." 

"  But  did  the  country  gain  any  real  good  by  the  con 
quest  of  Louisburg  ?  "  asked  Laurence.  "  Or  was  all 
the  benefit  reaped  by  Pepperell  and  Shirley  ?  " 

"The  English  Parliament,"  said  Grandfather,  "agreed 
to  pay  the  colonists  for  all  the  expenses  of  the  siege. 
Accordingly,  in  1749,  two  hundred  and  fifteen  chests  of 
Spanish  dollars  and  one  hundred  casks  of  copper  coin 
were  brought  from  England  to  Boston.  The  whole 
amount  was  about  a  million  of  dollars.  Twenty-seven 
carts  and  trucks  carried  this  money  from  the  wharf  to 
the  provincial  treasury.  Was  not  this  a  pretty  liberal 
reward  ? " 

"  The  mothers  of  the  young  men  who  were  killed  at 
the  siege  of  Louisburg  would  not  have  thought  it  so," 
said  Laurence. 

"  No,  Laurence,"  rejoined  Grandfather ;  "  and  every 
warlike  achievement  involves  an  amount  of  physical  and 
moral  evil,  for  which  all  the  gold  in  the  Spanish  mines 
would  not  be  the  slightest  recompense.  But  we  are  to 
consider  that  this  siege  was  one  of  the  occasions  on 
which  the  colonists  tested  their  ability  for  war,  and  thus 
were  prepared  for  the  great  contest  of  the  Revolution. 
In  that  point  of  view,  the  valor  of  our  forefathers  was  its 
own  reward." 

Grandfather  went  on  to  say  that  the  success  of  the 
expedition  against  Louisburg  induced  Shirley  and  Pep 
perell  to  form  a  scheme  for  conquering  Canada.  This 
plan,  however,  was  not  carried  into  execution. 

In  the  year  1740  great  terror  was  excited  by  the 
arrival  of  a  formidable  French  fleet  upon  the  coast.  It 


118  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIlt. 

was  commanded  by  the  Duke  d'Anville,  and  consisted  of 
forty  ships  of  war,  besides  vessels  with  soldiers  on  board. 
With  this  force  the  French  intended  to  retake  Louis- 
burg,  and  afterwards  to  ravage  the  whole  of  New  Eng 
land.  Many  people  were  ready  to  give  up  the  country 
for  lost. 

But  the  hostile  fleet  met  with  so  many  disasters  and 
losses  by  storm  and  shipwreck,  that  the  Duke  d'Anville 
is  said  to  have  poisoned  himself  in  despair.  The  officer 
next  in  command  threw  himself  upon  his  sword  and 
perished.  Thus  deprived  of  their  commanders,  the  re 
mainder  of  the  ships  returned  to  France.  This  was  as 
great  a  deliverance  for  New  England  as  that  which  Old 
England  had  experienced  in  the  days  of  Queen  Eliza 
beth,  when  the  Spanish  Armada  was  wrecked  upon  her 
coast. 

"In  1747,"  proceeded  Grandfather,"  Governor  Shirley 
was  driven  from  the  Province  House,  not  by  a  hostile 
fleet  and  army,  but  by  a  mob  of  the  Boston  people.  They 
were  so  incensed  at  the  conduct  of  the  British  Commo 
dore  Knowles,  who  had  impressed  some  of  their  fellow- 
citizens,  that  several  thousands  of  them  surrounded  the 
council  chamber  and  threw  stones  and  brickbats  into  the 
windows.  The  governor  attempted  to  pacify  them  ;  but 
not  succeeding,  he  thought  it  necessary  to  leave  the  town 
and  take  refuge  within  the  walls  of  Castle  William. 
Quiet  was  not  restored  until  Commodore  Knowles  had 
sent  back  the  impressed  men.  This  affair  was  a  flash  of 
spirit  that  might  have  warned  the  English  not  to  venture 
upon  any  oppressive  measures  against  their  colonial  breth 
ren." 

Peace  being  declared  between  France  and  England  in 
1748,  the  governor  had  now  an  opportunity  to  sit  at  his 
ease  in  Grandfather's  chair.  Such  repose,  however,  ap- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


119 


pears  not  to  have  suited  his  disposition ;  for  in  the  follow 
ing  year  he  went  to  England,  and  thence  was  despatched 
to  France  on  public  business.  Meanwhile,  as  Shirley  had 
not  resigned  his  office,  Lieutenant-Governor  Phipps  acted 
as  chief  magistrate  in  his  stead. 


CHAPTEE   VIII. 


N  the  early  twilight  of  Thanksgiving  eve  came 
Laurence,  and  Clara,  and  Charley,  and  little 
Alice  hand  in  hand,  and  stood  in  a  semicircle 
round  Grandfather's  chair.  They  had  been  joyous 
throughout  that  day  of  festivity,  mingling  together  in 
all  kinds  of  play,  so  that  the  house  had  echoed  with 
their  airy  mirth. 

Grandfather,  too,  had  been  happy,  though  not  mirth 
ful.  He  felt  that  this  was  to  be  set  down  as  one  of  the 
good  Thanksgivings  of  his  life.  In  truth,  all  his  former 
Thanksgivings  had  borne  their  part  in  the  present  one  ; 
for  his  years  of  infancy,  and  youth,  and  manhood,  witli 
their  blessings  and  their  griefs,  had  flitted  before  him 
while  he  sat  silently  in  the  great  chair.  Vanished  scenes 
had  been  pictured  in  the  air.  The  forms  of  departed 
friends  had  visited  him.  Voices  to  be  heard  no  more  on 
earth  had  sent  an  echo  from  the  infinite  and  the  eternal. 
These  shadows,  if  sucli  they  were,  seemed  almost  as  real 
to  him  as  what  was  actually  present,  —  as  the  merry 
shouts  and  laughter  of  the  children,  —  as  their  figures, 
dancing  like  sunshine  before  his  eyes. 

He  felt  that  the  past  was  not  taken  from  him.  The 
happiness  of  former  days  was  a  possession  forever.  And 
there  was  something  in  the  mingled  sorrow  of  his  life- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  121 

time  that  became  akin  to  happiness,  after  being  long 
treasured  in  the  depths  of  his  heart.  There  it  under 
went  a  change,  and  grew  more  precious  than  pure  gold. 

And  now  came  the  children,  somewhat  aweary  with 
their  wild  play,  and  sought  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  Grand 
father's  talk.  The  good  old  gentleman  rubbed  his  eyes 
and  snriled  round  upon  them  all.  He  was  glad,  as  most 
aged  people  are,  to  find  that  he  was  yet  of  consequence 
and  could  give  pleasure  to  the  world.  After  being  so 
merry  all  day  long,  did  these  children  desire  to  hear  his 
sober  talk  ?  O,  then,  old  Grandfather  had  yet  a  place  to 
fill  among  living  men,  —  or  at  least  among  boys  and  girls  ! 

"Begin  quick,  Grandfather/'  cried  little  Alice;  "for 
pussy  wants  to  hear  you." 

And  truly  our  yellow  friend,  the  cat,  lay  upon  the 
hearth-rug,  basking  in  the  warmth  of  the  fire,  pricking  up 
her  ears,  and  turning  her  head  from  the  children  to 
Grandfather,  and  from  Grandfather  to  the  children,  as  if 
she  felt  herself  very  sympathetic  with  them  all.  A  loud 
pur,  like  the  singing  of  a  teakettle  or  the  hum  of  a  spin 
ning-wheel,  testified  that  she  was  as  comfortable  and 
happy  as  a  cat  could  be.  For  puss  had  feasted;  and 
therefore,  like  Grandfather  and  the  children,  had  kept  a 
good  Thanksgiving. 

"  Does  pussy  want  to  hear  me  ?  "  said  Grandfather, 
smiling.  "  Well,  we  must  please  pussy,  if  we  can." 

And  so  he  took  up  the  history  of  the  chair  from  the 
epoch  of  the  peace  of  1748.  By  one  of  the  provisions 
of  the  treaty,  Louisburg,  which  the  New-Englanders  had 
been  at  so  much  pains  to  take,  was  restored  to  the  King 
of  France. 

The  French  were  afraid  that,  unless  their  colonies  should 
be  better  defended  than  heretofore,  another  war  might 
deprive  them  of  the  whole.  Almost  as  soon  as  peace  was 
6 


122  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.      . 

declared,  therefore,  they  began  to  build  strong  fortifica 
tions  in  the  interior  of  North  America.  It  was  strange 
to  behold  these  warlike  castles  on  the  banks  of  solitary 
lakes,  and  far  in  the  midst  of  woods.  The  Indian,  pad 
dling  his  birch  canoe  on  Lake  Champlain,  looked  up  at 
the  high  ramparts  of  Ticonderoga,  stone  piled  on  stone, 
bristling  with  cannon,  and  the  white  flag  of  France  float 
ing  above.  There  were  similar  fortifications  on  Lake 
Ontario,  and  near  the  great  Falls  of  Niagara,  and  at  the 
sources  of  the  Ohio  River.  And  all  around  these  forts 
and  castles  lay  the  eternal  forest ;  and  the  roll  of  the 
drum  died  away  in  those  deep  solitudes. 

The  truth  was,  that  the  French  intended  to  build  forts 
all  the  way  from  Canada  to  Louisiana.  They  would  then 
have  had  a  wall  of  military  strength  at  the  back  of  the  Eng 
lish  settlements  so  as  completely  to  hem  them  in.  The 
King  of  England  considered  the  building  of  these  forts 
as  a  sufficient  cause  of  war,  which  was  accordingly  com 
menced  in  1754. 

"  Governor  Shirley,"  said  Grandfather,  "had  returned 
to  Boston  in  1753.  While  in  Paris  he  had  married  a 
second  wife,  a  young  French  girl,  and  now  brought  her 
to  the  Province  House.  But  when  war  was  breaking 
out  it  was  impossible  for  such  a  bustling  man  to  stay 
quietly  at  home,  sitting  in  our  old  chair,  with  his  wife 
and  children  round  about  him.  He  therefore  obtained 
a  command  in  the  English  forces." 

"And  what  did  Sir  William  Pepperell  do?"  asked 
Charley. 

"He  stayed  at  home,"  said  Grandfather,  "and  was 
general  of  the  militia.  The  veteran  regiments  of  the 
English  army  which  were  now  sent  across  the  Atlantic 
would  have  scorned  to  light  under  the  orders  of  an  old 
American  merchant.  And  now  began  what  aged  people 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  123 

call  the  old  Trench  war.  It  would  be  going  too  far 
astray  from  the  history  of  our  chair  to  tell  you  one  half 
of  the  battles  that  were  fought.  I  cannot  even  allow 
myself  to  describe  the  bloody  defeat  of  General  Brad- 
dock,  near  the  sources  of  the  Ohio  River,  in  1755.  But 
I  must  not  omit  to  mention  that,  when  the  English  gen 
eral  was  mortally  wounded  and  his  army  routed,  the 
remains  of  it  were  preserved  by  the  skill  arid  valor  of 
GEORGE  WASHINGTON." 

At  the  mention  of  this  illustrious  name  the  children 
started  as  if  a  sudden  sunlight  had  gleamed  upon  the 
history  of  their  country,  now  that  the  great  deliverer 
had  arisen  above  the  horizon. 

Among  all  the  events  of  the  old  French  war,  Grand 
father  thought  that  there  was  none  more  interesting  than 
the  removal  of  the  inhabitants  of  Acadia.  From  the  first 
settlement  of  this  ancient  province  of  the  French,  in 
1601,  until  the  present  time,  its  people  could  scarcely 
ever  know  what  kingdom  held  dominion  over  them. 
They  were  a  peaceful  race,  taking  no  delight  in  warfare, 
and  caring  nothing  for  military  renown.  And  yet,  in 
every  war,  their  region  was  infested  with  iron-hearted  sol 
diers,  both  French  and  English,  who  fought  one  another 
for  the  privilege  of  ill  treating  these  poor,  harmless  Aca- 
dians.  Sometimes  the  treaty  of  peace  made  them  sub 
jects  of  one  king,  sometimes  of  another. 

At  the  peace  of  1748  Acadia  had  been  ceded  to  Eng 
land.  But  the  French  still  claimed  a  large  portion  of  it, 
and  built  forts  for  its  defence.  In  1755  these  forts  were 
taken,  and  the  whole  of  Acadia  was  conquered  by  three 
thousand  men  from  Massachusetts,  under  the  command 
of  General  Winslow.  The  inhabitants  were  accused  of 
supplying  the  French  with  provisions,  and  of  doing  other 
things  that  violated  their  neutrality. 


124  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  These  accusations  were  probably  true,"  observed 
Grandfather;  "for  the  Acadians  were  descended  from 
the  French,  and  had  the  same  friendly  feelings  towards 
Ihem  that  the  people  of  Massachusetts  had  for  Ihe  Eng 
lish.  But  their  punishment  was  severe.  The  English 
determined  to  tear  these  poor  people  from  their  native 
homes  and  scatter  them  abroad." 

The  Acadians  were  about  seven  thousand  in  number. 
A  considerable  part  of  them  were  made  prisoners,  and 
transported  to  the  English  colonies.  All  their  dwellings 
and  churches  were  burned,  their  cattle  were  killed,  and 
the  whole  country  was  laid  waste,  so  that  none  of  them 
might  find  shelter  or  food  in  their  old  homes  after  the  de 
parture  of  the  English.  One  thousand  of  the  prisoners 
were  sent  to  Massachusetts;  and  Grandfather  allowed 
his  fancy  to  follow  them  thither,  and  tried  to  give  his  au 
ditors  an  idea  of  their  situation. 

We  shall  call  this  passage  the  story  of 

THE  ACADIAN  EXILES. 

A  sad  day  it  Avas  for  the  poor  Acadians  when  the 
armed  soldiers  drove  them,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet, 
down  to  the  sea-shore.  Very  sad  were  they,  likewise, 
while  tossing  upon  the  ocean  in  the  crowded  -transport 
vessels.  But  methinks  it  must  have  been  sadder  still 
when  they  were  landed  on  the  Long  Wharf  in  Boston, 
and  left  to  themselves  on  a  foreign  strand. 

Then,  probably,  they  huddled  together  and  looked  into 
one  another's  faces  for  the  comfort  which  was  not  there. 
Hitherto  they  had  been  confined  on  board  of  separate 
vessels,  so  that  they  could  not  tell  whether  their  relatives 
and  friends  were  prisoners  along  with  them.  But  now, 
at  least,  they  could  tell  that  many  had  been  left  behind 
or  transported  to  other  regions, 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  125 

Now  a  desolate  wife  might  be  heard  calling  for  her 
husband.  He,  alas  !  had  gone,  she  knew  not  whither; 
or  perhaps  had  fled  into  the  woods  of  Acadia,  and  had 
now  returned  to  weep  over  the  ashes  of  their  dwelling. 

An  aged  widow  was  crying  out  in  a  querulous,  lament 
able  tone  for  her  son,  whose  affectionate  toil  had  sup 
ported  her  for  many  a  year.  He  was  not  in  the  crowd 
of  exiles ;  and  what  could  this  aged  widow  do  but  sink 
down  and  die  ?  Young  men  and  maidens,  whose  hearts 
had  been  torn  asunder  by  separation,  had  hoped,  during 
the  voyage,  to  meet  their  beloved  ones  at  its  close.  Now 
they  began  to  feel  that  they  were  separated  forever.  And 
perhaps  a  lonesome  little  girl,  a  golden-haired  child  of 
live  years  old,  the  very  picture  of  our  little  Alice,  was 
weeping  and  wailing  for  her  mother,  and  found  not  a  soul 
to  give  her  a  kind  word. 

O,  how  many  broken  bonds  of  affection  were  here! 
Country  lost,  —  friends  lost,  — their  rural  wealth  of  cot 
tage,  field,  and  herds  all  lost  together !  Every  tie  be 
tween  these  poor  exiles  and  the  world  seemed  to  be  cut 
off  at  once.  They  must  have  regretted  that  they  had  not 
died  before  their  exile ;  for  even  the  English  would  not 
have  been  so  pitiless  as  to  deny  them  graves  in  their 
native  soil.  The  dead  were  happy ;  for  they  were  not 
exiles ! 

While  they  thus  stood  upon  the  wharf,  the  curiosity 
and  inquisitiveness  of  the  New  England  people  would 
naturally  lead  them  into  the  midst  of  the  poor  Acadians. 
Prying  busybodies  thrust  their  heads  into  the  circle 
wherever  two  or  three  of  the  exiles  were  conversing  to 
gether.  How  puzzled  did  they  look  at  the  outlandish 
sound  of  the  French  tongue !  There  were  seen  the  New 
England  women,  too.  They  had  just  come  out  of  their 
warm,  safe  homes,  where  everything  was  regular  and 

'srsef  Lud!owt 


126  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

comfortable,  and  where  their  husbands  and  children 
would  be  with  them  at  nightfall.  Surely  they  could  pity 
the  wretched  wives  and  mothers  of  Acadia  !  Or  did  the 
sign  of  the  cross  which  the  Acadians  continually  made 
upon  their  breasts,  and  which  was  abhorred  by  the  de 
scendants  of  the  Puritans,  —  did  that  sign  exclude  all  pity? 

Among  the  spectators,  too,  was  the  noisy  brood  of 
Boston  school-boys,  who  came  running,  with  laughter  and 
shouts,  to  gaze  at  this  crowd  of  oddly  dressed  foreigners. 
At  first  they  danced  and  capered  around  them,  full  of 
merriment  and  mischief.  But  the  despair  of  the  Aca 
dians  soon  had  its  effect  upon  these  thoughtless  lads,  and 
melted  them  into  tearful  sympathy. 

At  a  little  distance  from  the  throng  might  be  seen  the 
wealthy  and  pompous  merchants  whose  warehouses  stood 
on  Long  Wharf.  It  was  difficult  to  touch  these  rich 
men's  hearts;  for  they  had  all  the  comforts  of  the  world 
at  their  command ;  and  when  they  walked  abroad  their 
feelings  were  seldom  moved,  except  by  the  roughness  of 
the  pavement  irritating  their  gouty  toes.  Leaning  upon 
their  gold-headed  canes,  they  watched  the  scene  with  an 
aspect  of  composure.  But  let  us  hope  they  distributed 
some  of  their  superfluous  coin  among  these  hapless  exiles 
to  purchase  food  and  a  night's  lodging. 

After  standing  a  long  time  at  the  end  of  the  wharf, 
gazing  seaward,  as  if  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  their  lost 
Acadia,  the  strangers  began  to  stray  into  the  town. 

They  went,-  we  wrill  suppose,  in  parties  and  groups, 
here  a  hundred,  there  a  score,  there  ten,  there  three  or 
four,  who  possessed  some  bond  of  unity  among  them 
selves.  Here  and  there  was  one,  who,  utterly  desolate, 
stole  away  by  himself,  seeking  no  companionship. 

Whither  did  they  go?  I  imagine  them  wandering 
about  the  streets,  telling  the  townspeople,  in  outland- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  127 

isli,  unintelligible  words,  that  no  earthly  affliction  ever 
equalled  what  had  befallen  them.  Man's  brotherhood 
with  man  was  sufficient  to  make  the  New-Englanders 
understand  this  language.  The  strangers  wanted  food. 
Some  of  them  sought  hospitality  at  the  doors  of  the 
stately  mansions  which  then  stood  in  the  vicinity  of 
Hanover  Street  and  the  North  Square.  Others  were  ap 
plicants  at  the  humble  wooden  tenements,  where  dwelt 
the  petty  shopkeepers  and  mechanics.  Pray  Heaven 
that  no  family  in  Boston  turned  one  of  these  poor  exiles 
from  their  door  !  It  would  be  a  reproach  upon  New 
England,  —  a  crime  worthy  of  heavy  retribution,  —  if  the 
aged  women  and  children,  or  even  the  strong  men,  were 
allowed  to  feel  the  pinch  of  hunger. 

Perhaps  some  of  the  Acadians,  in  their  aimless  wan 
derings  through  the  town,  found  themselves  near  a  large 
brick  edifice,  which  was  fenced  in  from  the  street  by  an 
iron  railing,  wrought  with  fantastic  figures.  They  saw 
a  flight  of  red  freestone  steps  ascending  to  a  portal, 
above  which  was  a  balcony  and  balustrade.  Misery  and 
desolation  give  men  the  right  of  free  passage  everywhere. 
Let  us  suppose,  then,  that  they  mounted  the  flight  of 
steps  and  passed  into  the  Province  House.  Making 
their  way  into  one  of  the  apartments,  they  beheld  a 
richly-clad  gentleman,  seated  in  a  stately  chair,  with 
gilding  upon  the  carved  work  of  its  back,  and  a  gilded 
lion's  head  at  the  summit.  This  was  Governor  Shirley, 
meditating  upon  matters  of  war  and  state,  in  Grandfa 
ther's  chair ! 

If  such  an  incident  did  happen,  Shirley,  reflecting 
what  a  ruin  of  peaceful  and  humble  hopes  had  been 
wrought  by  the  cold  policy  of  the  statesman  and  the 
iron  hand  of  the  warrior,  might  have  drawn  a  deep 
moral  from  it.  It  should  have  taught  him  that  the  poor 


128  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

man's  hearth  is  sacred,  and  that  armies  and  nations  have 
no  right  to  violate  it.  It  should  have  made  him  feel 
that  England's  triumph  and  increased  dominion  could 
not  compensate  to  mankind  nor  atone  to  Heaven  for  the 
ashes  of  a  single  Acadian  cottage.  But  it  is  not  thus 
that  statesmen  and  warriors  moralize. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  Laurence,  with  emotion  trem 
bling  in  his  voice,  "  did  iron-hearted  War  itself  ever  do  so 
hard  and  cruel  a  thing  as  this  before  ?  " 

"  You  have  read  in  history,  Laurence,  of  whole  regions 
wantonly  laid  waste,"  said  Grandfather.  "In  the  re 
moval  of  the  Acadians,  the  troops  were  guilty  of  no 
cruelty  or  outrage,  except  what  was  inseparable  from  the 
measure." 

Little  Alice,  whose  eyes  had  all  along  been  brimming 
full  of  tears,  now  burst  forth  a-sobbing  ;  for  Grandfather 
had  touched  her  sympathies  more  than  he  intended. 

"  To  think  of  a  whole  people  homeless  in  the  world  !  " 
said  Clara,  with  moistened  eyes.  "  There  never  was  any 
thing  so  sad ! " 

"  It  was  their  own  fault !  "  cried  Charley,  energeti 
cally.  "  Why  did  not  they  fight  for  the  country  where 
they  were  born  ?  Then,  if  the  Avorst  had  happened  to 
them,  they  could  only  have  been  killed  and  buried  there. 
They  would  not  have  been  exiles  then." 

"  Certainly  their  lot  was  as  hard  as  death,"  said  Grand 
father.  "  All  that  could  be  done  for  them  in  the  English 
provinces  was,  to  send  them  to  the  almshouses,  or  bind 
them  out  to  taskmasters.  And  this  was  the  fate  of  per 
sons  who  had  possessed  a  comfortable  property  in  their 
native  country.  Some  of  them  found  means  to  embark 
for  France  ;  but  though  it  was  the  land  of  their  fore 
fathers,  it  must  have  been  a  foreign  land  to  them.  Those 
who  remained  behind  always  cherished  a  belief  that  the 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  129 

King  of  France  would  never  make  peace  with  England 
till  his  poor  Acadians  were  restored  to  their  country  and 
their  homes." 

"  And  did  he  ?  "  inquired  Clara. 

"Alas  !  my  dear  Clara/'  said  Grandfather,  "it  is  im 
probable  that  the  slightest  whisper  of  the  woes  of  Acadia 
ever  reached  the  ears  of  Louis  XV.  (The  exiles  grew 
old  in  the  British  provinces,  and  nev*er  saw  Acadia 
agaiiL\  Their  descendants  remain  among  us  to  this  day. 
They  have  forgotten  the  language  of  their  ancestors,  and 
probably  retain  no  tradition  of  their  misfortunes.  J  But, 
methinks,  if  I  were  an  American  poet,  I  would  choose 
Acadia  for  the  subject  of  my  song." 

Since  Grandfather  first  spoke  these  words,  the  most 
famous  of  American  poets  has  drawn  sweet  tears  from  all 
of  us  by  his  beautiful  poem  of  Evangeline. 

And  now,  having  thrown  a  gentle  gloom  around  the 
Thanksgiving  fireside  by  a  story  that  made  the  children 
feel  the  blessing  of  a  secure  and  peaceful  hearth,  Grand 
father  put  off  the  other  events  of  the  old  French  war  till 
the  next  evening. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

N  the  twilight  of  the  succeeding  eve,  when 
the  red  beams  of  the  fire  were  dancing  upon 
the  wall,  the  children  besought  Grandfather  to 
tell  them  what  had  next  happened  to  the  old  chair. 

"Our  chair,"  said  Grandfather,  "stood  all  this  time  in 
the  Province  House.  But  Governor  Shirley  had  seldom 
an  opportunity  to  repose  within  its  arms.  He  was  lead 
ing  his  troops  through  the  forest,  or  sailing  in  a  flat-boat 
on  Lake  Ontario,  or  sleeping  in  his  tent,  while  the  awful 
cataract  of  Niagara  sent  its  roar  through  his  dreams.  At 
one  period,  in  the  early  part  of  the  war,  Shirley  had  the 
chief  command  of  all  the  king's  forces  in  America." 

"  Did  his  young  wife  go  with  him  to  the  war  ?  "  asked 
Clara. 

"  I  rather  imagine,"  replied  Grandfather,  "  that  she  re 
mained  in  Boston.  This  lady,  I  suppose,  had  our  chair 
all  to  herself,  and  used  to  sit  in  it  during  those  brief  in 
tervals  when  a  young  Frenchwoman  can  be  quiet  enough 
to  sit  in  a  chair.  The  people  of  Massachusetts  were  never 
fond  of  Governor  Shirley's  young  French  wife.  They 
had  a  suspicion  that  she  betrayed  the  military  plans  of 
the  English  to  the  generals  of  the  French  armies." 

"  And  was  it  true  ?  "  inquired  Clara. 

"  Probably  not,"  said  Grandfather.    "  But  the  mere  sus- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  131 

picion  did  Shirley  a  great  deal  of  harm.  Partly,  perhaps, 
for  this  reason,  but  much  more  on  account  of  his  ineffi 
ciency  as  a  general,  he  was  deprived  of  his  command  in 
1756,  and  recalled  to  England.  He  never  afterwards 
made  any  figure  in  public  life." 

As  Grandfather's  chair  had  no  locomotive  properties, 
and  did  not  even  run  on  castors,  it  cannot  be  supposed  to 
have  marched  in  person  to  the  old  French  war.  But 
Grandfather  delayed  its  momentous  history  while  he 
touched  briefly  upon  some  of  the  bloody  battles,  sieges, 
and  onslaughts,  the  tidings  of  which  kept  continually 
coming  to  the  ears  of  the  old  inhabitants  of  Boston.  The 
woods  of  the  North  were  populous  with  fighting  men. 
AH  the  Indian  tribes  uplifted  their  tomahawks,  and  took 
part  either  with  the  French  or  English.  The  rattle  of 
musketry  and  roar  of  cannon  disturbed  the  ancient  quiet 
of  the  forest,  and  actually  drove  the  bears  and  other  wild 
beasts  to  the  more  cultivated  portion  of  the  country  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  seaports.  The  children  felt  as  if  they 
were  transported  back  to  those  forgotten  times,  and  that 
the  couriers  from  the  army,  with  the  news  of  a  battle  lost 
or  won,  might  even  now  be  heard  galloping  through  the 
streets.  Grandfather  told  them  about  the  battle  of  Lake 
George  in  1755,  when  the  gallant  Colonel  Williams,  a 
Massachusetts  officer,  was  slain,  with  many  of  his  coun 
trymen.  But  General  J  ohnson  and  General  Lyman,  with 
their  army,  drove  back  the  enemy  and  mortally  wounded 
the  French  leader,  who  was  called  the  Baron  Dieskau. 
A  gold  watch,  pilfered  from  the  poor  baron,  is  still  in  ex 
istence,  and  still  marks  each  moment  of  time  without 
complaining  of  weariness,  although  its  hands  have  been 
in  motion  ever  since  the  hour  of  battle. 

In  the  first  years  of  the  war  there  were  many  disasters 
on  the  English  side.  Among  these  was  the  loss  of  Fort 


132  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Oswego  in  1756,  and  of  Fort  William  Henry  in  the  fol 
lowing  year.  But  the  greatest  misfortune  that  befell  the 
English  during  the  whole  war  was  the  repulse  of  General 
Abercrombie,  with  his  army,  from  the  ramparts  of  Ticon- 
deroga  in  1/58.  He  attempted  to  storm  the  walls  ;  but 
a  terrible  conflict  ensued,  in  which  more  than  two  thou 
sand  Englishmen  and  New-Englanders  were  killed  or 
wounded.  The  slain  soldiers  now  lie  buried  around  that 
ancient  fortress.  When  the  plough  passes  over  the  soil, 
it  turns  up  here  and  there  a  mouldering  bone. 

Up  to  this  period,  none  of  the  English  generals  had 
shown  any  military  talent.  Shirley,  the  Earl  of  Loudon, 
and  General  Abercrombie  had  each  held  the  chief  com 
mand  at  different  times ;  but  not  one  of  them  had  won  a 
single  important  triumph  for  the  British  arms.  This  ill 
success  was  not  owing  to  the  want  of  means  ;  for,  in 
1758,  General  Abercrombie  had  fifty  thousand  soldiers 
under  his  command.  But  the  French  general,  the  fa 
mous  Marquis  de  Montcalm,  possessed  a  great  genius 
for  war,  and  had  something  within  him  that  taught  him 
how  battles  were  to  be  won. 

At  length,  in  1759,  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  was  appointed 
commander-in-chief  of  all  the  British  forces  in  America. 
He  was  a  man  of  ability  and  a  skilful  soldier.  A  plan 
was  now  formed  for  accomplishing  that  object  which  had 
so  long  been  the  darling  wish  of  the  New-Engla-nders, 
and  which  their  fathers  had  so  many  times  attempted. 
This  was  the  conquest  of  Canada. 

Three  separate  armies  were  to  enter  Canada  from  dif 
ferent  quarters.  One  of  the  three,  commanded  by  Gen 
eral  Prideaux,  was  to  embark  on  Lake  Ontario  and  pro 
ceed  to  Montreal.  The  second,  at  the  head  of  which  was 
Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  himself,  was  destined  to  reach  the 
river  St.  Lawrence,  by  the  way  of  Lake  Champlain,  and 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  133 

then  go  down  the  river  to  meet  the  third  army.  This 
last,  led  by  General  Wolfe,  was  to  enter  the  St.  Law 
rence  from  the  sea  and  ascend  the  river  to  Quebec. 
It  is  to  Wolfe  and  his  army  that  England  owes  one 
of  the  most  splendid  triumphs  ever  written  in  her  his 
tory. 

Grandfather  described  the  siege  of  Quebec,  and  told 
how  Wolfe  led  his  soldiers  up  a  rugged  and  lofty  preci 
pice,  that  rose  from  the  shore  of  the  river  to  the  plain  on 
which  the  city  stood.  This  bold  adventure  was  achieved 
in  the  darkness  of  night.  At  daybreak  tidings  were 
carried  to  the  Marquis  de  Montcalm  that  the  English 
army  was  waiting  to  give  him  battle  on  the  plains  of 
Abraham.  This  brave  French  general  ordered  his  drums 
to  strike  up,  and  immediately  marched  to  encounter 
Wolfe. 

He  marched  to  his  own  death.  The  battle  was  the 
most  fierce  and  terrible  that  had  ever  been  fought  in 
America.  General  Wolfe  was  at  the  head  of  his  soldiers, 
and,  while  encouraging  them  onward,  received  a  mortal 
wound.  He  reclined  against  a  stone  in  the  agonies  of 
death ;  but  it  seemed  as  if  his  spirit  could  not  pass  away 
while  the  fight  yet  raged  so  doubtfully.  Suddenly  a 
shout  came  pealing  across  the  battle-field,  "  They  flee  ! 
they  flee  !  "  and,  for  a  moment,  Wolfe  lifted  his  languid 
head.  "Who  flee?"  he  inquired.  "The  French," 
replied  an  officer.  "  Then  I  die  satisfied  !  "  said  Wolfe, 
and  expired  in  the  arms  of  victory. 

"  If  ever  a  warrior's  death  were  glorious,  Wolfe's  was 
so,"  said  Grandfather ;  and  his  eye  kindled,  though  he 
was  a  man  of  peaceful  thoughts  and  gentle  spirit.  "  His 
life-blood  streamed  to  baptize  the  soil  which  he  had  added 
to  the  dominion  of  Britain.  His  dying  breath  was 
mingled  with  his  army's  shout  of  victory." 


134  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  0,  it  was  a  good  death  to  die  !  "  cried  Charley,  with 
glistening  eyes.  "  Was  it  not  a  good  death,  Lau 
rence  ?  " 

Laurence  made  no  reply  ;  for  his  heart  burned  within 
him,  as  the  picture  of  Wolfe,  dying  on  the  blood-stained 
field  of  victory,  arose  to  his  imagination  ;  and  yet  lie  had 
a  deep  inward  consciousness  that,  after  all,  there  was  a 
truer  glory  than  could  thus  be  won. 

"  There  were  other  battles  in  Canada  after  Wolfe's 
victory,"  resumed  Grandfather ;  "  but  we  may  consider 
the  old  French  war  as  having  terminated  with  this  great 
event.  The  treaty  of  peace,  however,  was  not  signed 
until  1763.  The  terms  of  the  treaty  were  very  disadvan 
tageous  to  the  French ;  for  all  Canada,  and  all  Acadia, 
and  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  —  in  short,  all  the  terri 
tories  that  France  and  England  had  been  fighting  about 
for  nearly  a  hundred  years,  —  were  surrendered  to  the 
English." 

"  So  now,  at  last,"  said  Laurence,  "  New  England  had 
gained  her  wish.  Canada  was  taken." 

"  And  now  there  was  nobody  to  light  with  but  the 
Indians,"  said  Charley. 

Grandfather  mentioned  two  other  important  events. 
The  first  was  the  great  fire  of  Boston  in  1760,  when  the 
glare  from  nearly  three  hundred  buildings,  all  in  flames 
at  once,  shone  through  the  windows  of  the  Province 
House,  and  threw  a  fierce  lustre  upon  the  gilded  foliage 
and  lion's  head  of  our  old  chair.  The  second  event  was 
the  proclamation,  in  the  same  year,  of  George  III.  as 
King  of  Great  Britain.  The  blast  of  the  trumpet  sounded 
from  the  balcony  of  the  Town  House,  and  awoke  the 
echoes  far  and  wide,  as  if  to  challenge  all  mankind  to  dis 
pute  King  George's  title. 

Seven  times,  as  the  successive  mouarchs  of  Britain  as- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


135 


cended  the  throne,  the  trumpet  peal  of  proclamation  had 
been  heard  by  those  who  sat  in  our  venerable  chair.  But 
when  the  next  king  put  on  his  father's  crown,  no  trumpet 
peal  proclaimed  it  to  New  England.  Long  before  that 
day  America  had  shaken  off  the  royal  government. 


CHAPTER    X. 


^|OW  that  Grandfather  Lad  fought  through  the  old 
French  war,  in  which  our  chair  made  no  very 
distinguished  figure,  he  thought  it  high  time  to 
tell  the  children  some  of  the  more  private  history  of  that 
praiseworthy  old  piece  of  furniture. 

"In  1757,"  said  Grandfather,  "after  Shirley  had  been 
summoned  to  England,  Thomas  Pownall  was  appointed 
governor  of  Massachusetts.  He  was  a  gay  and  fashion 
able  English  gentleman,  who  had  spent  much  of  his  life 
in  London,  but  had  a  considerable  acquaintance  with 
America.  The  new  governor  appears  to  have  taken  no 
active  part  in  the  war  that  was  going  on ;  although,  at 
one  period,  he  talked  of  marching  against  the  enemy  at 
the  head  of  his  company  of -cadets.  But,  on  the  whole, 
he  probably  concluded  that  it  was  more  befitting  a  gov 
ernor  to  remain  quietly  in  our  chair,  reading  the  news 
papers  and  official  documents." 

"  Did  the  people  like  Pownall  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  They  found  no  fault  with  him,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  It  was  no  time  to  quarrel  with  the  governor  when  the 
utmost  harmony  was  required  in  order  to  defend  the  coun 
try  against  the  French.  But  Pownall  did  not  remain 
long  in  Massachusetts.  In  1759  he  was  sent  to  be  gov 
ernor  of  South  Carolina.  In  thus  exchanging  one  govern- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  137 

ment  for  another,  I  suppose  he  felt  no  regret,  except  at 
the  necessity  of  leaving  Grandfather's  chair  behind  him." 

"  He  might  have  taken  it  to  South  Carolina/'  observed 
Clara. 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  said  Laurence,  giving  the  rein  to 
his  fancy,  "  that  the  fate  of  this  ancient  chair  was,  some 
how  or  other,  mysteriously  connected  with  the  fortunes 
of  old  Massachusetts.  If  Governor  Pownall  had  put  it 
aboard  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed  for  South  Carolina, 
she  would  probably  have  lain  wind-bound  in  Boston  Har 
bor.  It  was  ordained  that  the  chair  should  not  be  taken 
away.  Don't  you  think  so,  Grandfather  ?  " 

"  It  was  kept  here  for  Grandfather  and  me  to  sit  in 
together,"  said  little  Alice,  "  and  for  Grandfather  to  tell 
stories  about." 

"  And  Grandfather  is  very  glad  of  such  a  companion 
and  such  a  theme,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  with  a  smile. 
"  Well,  Laurence,  if  our  oaken  chair,  like  the  wooden 
palladium  of  Troy,  was  connected  with  the  country's  fate, 
yet  there  appears  to  have  been  no  supernatural  obstacle 
to  its  removal  from  the  Province  House.  In  1760  Sir 
Francis  Bernard,  who  had  been  governor  of  New  Jersey, 
was  appointed  to  thq  same  office  in  Massachusetts.  He 
looked  at  the  old  chair,  and  thought  it  quite  too  shabby 
to  keep  company  with  a  new  set  of  mahogany  chairs  and 
an  aristocratic  sofa  which  had  just  arrived  from  Lon 
don.  He  therefore  ordered  it  to  be  put  away  in  the 
garret." 

The  children  were  loud  in  their  exclamations  against 
this  irreverent  conduct  of  Sir  Francis  Bernard.  But 
Grandfather  defended  him  as  well  as  he  could.  He  ob 
served  that  it  was  then  thirty  years  since  the  chair  had 
been  beautified  by  Governor  Belcher.  Most  of  the  gild 
ing  was  worn  off  by  the  frequent  scourings  which  it 


138  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

had  undergone  beneath  the  hands  of  a  black  slave.  The 
damask  cushion,  once  so  splendid,  was  now  squeezed  out 
of  all  shape,  and  absolutely  in  tatters,  so  many  were  the 
ponderous  gentlemen  who  had  deposited  their  weight 
upon  it  during  these  thirty  years. 

Moreover,  at  a  council  held  by  the  Earl  of  Lou  don" 
with  the  governors  of  New  England  in  1757,  his  lord 
ship,  in  a  moment  of  passion,  had  kicked  over  the  chair 
with  his  military  boot.  By  this  unprovoked  and  unjusti 
fiable  act,  our  venerable  friend  had  suffered  a  fracture  of 
one  of  its  rungs. 

"But,"  said  Grandfather,  "our  chair,  after  all,  was 
not  destined  to  spend  the  remainder  of  its  days  in  the 
inglorious  obscurity  of  a  garret.  Thomas  Hutchinson, 
lieutenant-governor  of  the  province,  was  told  of  Sir 
Francis  Bernard's  design.  This  gentleman  was  more 
familiar  with  the  history  of  New  England  than  any  other 
man  alive.  He  knew  all  the  adventures  and  vicissitudes 
through  which  the  old  chair  had  passed,  and  could  have 
told  as  accurately  as  your  own  Grandfather  who  were  the 
personages  that  had  occupied  it.  Often,  while  visiting 
at  the  Province  House,  he  had  eyed  the  chair  with  admi 
ration,  and  felt  a  longing  desire  to  become  the  possessor 
of  it.  He  now  waited  upon  Sir  Erancis  Bernard,  and 
easily  obtained  leave  to  carry  it  home.'5 

"  And  I  hope,"  said  Clara,  "  he  had  it  varnished  and 
gilded  anew." 

"No,"  answered  Grandfather.  "What  Mr.  Hutchin 
son  desired  was,  to  restore  the  chair  as  much  as  possible  to 
its  original  aspect,  such  as  it  had  appeared  when  it  was 
first  made  out  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  oak-tree.  Eor  this 
purpose  he  ordered  it  to  be  well  scoured  with  soap  and 
sand  and  polished  with  wax,  and  then  provided  it  with  a 
substantial  leather  cushion.  When  all  was  completed  to 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  139 

his  mind  he  sat  down  in  the  old  chair,  and  began  to  write 
his  History  of  Massachusetts." 

"  O,  that  was  a  bright  thought  in  Mr.  Hutchinson !  " 
exclaimed  Laurence.  "  And  no  doubt  the  dim  figures  of 
the  former  possessors  of  the  chair  flitted  around  him  as 
he  wrote,  and  inspired  him  with  a  knowledge  of  all  that 
they  had  done  and  suffered  while  on  earth." 

"  Why,  my  dear  Laurence,"  replied  Grandfather,  smil 
ing,  "  if  Mr.  Hutchinson  was  favored  with  any  such  ex 
traordinary  inspiration,  he  made  but  a  poor  use  of  it  in 
his  history ;  for  a  duller  piece  of  composition  never  came 
from  any  man's  pen.  However,  he  was  accurate,  at 
least,  though  far  from  possessing  the  brilliancy  or  philos 
ophy  of  Mr.  Bancroft." 

"  But  if  Hutchinson  knew  the  history  of  the  chair,"  re 
joined  Laurence,  "his  heart  must  have  been  stirred  by  it." 

"  It  must,  indeed,"  said  Grandfather.  "It  would  be 
entertaining  and  instructive,  at  the  present  day,  to  im 
agine  what  were  Mr.  Hutchinson's  thoughts  as  he  looked 
back  upon  the  long  vista  of  events  with  which  this  chair 
was  so  remarkably  connected." 

And  Grandfather  allowed  his  fancy  to  shape  out  an 
image  of  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson,  sitting  in  an 
evening  revery  by  his  fireside,  and  meditating  on  the 
changes  that  had  slowly  passed  around  the  chair. 

A  devoted  monarchist,  Hutchinson  would  heave  no 
sigh  for  the  subversion  of  the  original  republican  govern 
ment,  the  purest  that  the  world  had  seen,  with  which  the 
colony  began  its  existence.  While  reverencing  the  grim 
and  stern  old  Puritans  as  the  founders  of  his  native  land, 
he  would  not  wish  to  recall  them  from  their  graves,  nor 
to  awaken  again  that  king-resisting  spirit  which  he  im 
agined  to  be  laid  asleep  with  them  forever.  Winthrop, 
Dudley,  Bellingham,  Endicott,  Leverett,  and  Bradstreet, 


140  Gil  AND  FATHER'S    CHAIR. 

—  all  these  Lad  had  their  day.  Ages  might  come  and  go, 
but  never  again  would  the  people's  suffrages  place  a  re 
publican  governor  in  their  ancient  chair  of  state. 

Coming  down  to  the  epoch  of  the  second  charter, 
Hutchinson  thought  of  the  ship-carpenter  Phipps,  spring 
ing  from  the  lowest  of  the*  people  and  attaining  to  the 
loftiest  station  in  the  land.  But  he  smiled  to  perceive 
that  this  governor's  example  would  awaken  no  turbulent 
ambition  in  the  lower  orders  ;  for  it  was  a  king's  gracious 
boon  alone  that  made  the  ship-carpenter  a  ruler.  Hutch 
inson  rejoiced  to  mark  the  gradual  growth  of  an  aristo 
cratic  class,  to  whom  the  common  people,  as  in  duty 
bound,  were  learning  humbly  to  resign  the  honors,  emol 
uments,  and  authority  of  state.  He  saw  —  or  else  de 
ceived  himself — that,  throughout  this  epoch,  the  people's 
disposition  to  self-government  had  been  growing  weaker 
through  long  disuse,  and  now  existed  only  as  a  faint 
traditionary  feeling. 

The  lieutenant-governor's  revery  had  now  come  down 
to  the  period  at  which  he  himself  was  sitting  in  the  his 
toric  chair.  He  endeavored  to  throw  his  glance  forward 
over  the  coming  years.  There,  probably,  he  saw  visions 
of  hereditary  rank  for  himself  and  other  aristocratic  col 
onists.  He  saw  the  fertile  fields  of  New  England  pro 
portioned  out  among  a  few  great  landholders,  and  de 
scending  by  entail  from  generation  to  generation.  He 
saw  the  people  a  race  of  tenantry,  dependent  on  their 
lords.  He  saw  stars,  garters,  coronets,  and  castles. 

"  But,"  added  Grandfather,  turning  to  Laurence,  "the 
lieutenant-governor's  castles  were  built  nowhere  but 
among  the  red  embers  of  the  fire  before  which  he  was 
sitting.  And,  just  as  he  had  constructed  a  baronial  resi 
dence  for  himself  and  his  posterity,  the  fire  rolled  down 
upon  the  hearth  and  crumbled  it  to  ashes !  " 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  141 

Grandfather  now  looked  at  his  watch,  which  hung 
within  a  beautiful  little  ebony  temple,  supported  by  four 
Ionic  columns.  He  then  laid  his  hand  on  the  golden 
locks  of  little  Alice,  whose  head  had  sunk  down  upon  the 
arm  of  our  illustrious  chair. 

"  To  bed,  to  bed,  dear  child  !  "  said  he.  "  Grand 
father  has  put  you  to  sleep  already  by  his  stories  about 
these  FAMOUS  OLD  PEOPLE." 


<   X 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR 


PART   III. 
CHAPTER    I. 

N  the  evening  of  New- Year's  day  Grandfather 
was  walking  to  and  fro  across  the  carpet,  listen 
ing  to  the  rain  which  beat  hard  against  the  cur 
tained  windows.  The  riotous  blast  shook  the  casement 
as  if  a  strong  man  were  striving  to  force  his  entrance 
into  the  comfortable  room.  With  every  puff  of  the  wind 
the  fire  leaped  upward  from  the  hearth,  laughing  and  re 
joicing  at  the  shrieks  of  the  wintry  storm. 

Meanwhile  Grandfather's  chair  stood  in  its  customary 
place  by  the  fireside.  The  bright  blaze  gleamed  upon 
the  fantastic  figures  of  its  oaken  back,  and  shone  through 
the  open  work,  so  that  a  complete  pattern  was  thrown 
upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  room.  Sometimes,  for  a 
moment  or  two,  the  shadow  remained  immovable,  as  if 
it  were  painted  on  the  wall.  Then  all  at  once  it  began 
to  quiver,  and  leap,  and  dance  with  a  frisky  motion. 
Anon,  seeming  to  remember  that  these  antics  were  un 
worthy  of  such  a  dignified  and  venerable  chair,  it  sud- 
denlv  stood  still.  But  soon  it  began  to  dance  anew. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  143 

"  Only  see  how  Grandfather's  chair  is  dancing !  "  cried 
little  Alice. 

And  she  ran  to  the  wall  and  tried  to  catch  hold  of  the 
flickering  shadow ;  for,  to  children  of  five  years  old,  a 
shadow  seems  almost  as  real  as  a  substance. 

"  I  wish,"  said  Clara,  "  Grandfather  would  sit  down  in 
the  chair  and  finish  its  history." 

If  the  children  had  been  looking  at  Grandfather,  they 
would  have  noticed  that  he  paused  in  his  walk  across  the 
room  when  Clara  made  this  remark.  The  kind  old  gen 
tleman  was  ready  and  willing  to  resume  his  stories  of 
departed  times.  But  he  had  resolved  to  wait  till  his 
auditors  should  request  him  to  proceed,  in  order  that 
they  might  find  the  instructive  history  of  the  chair  a 
pleasure,  and  not  a  task. 

"  Grandfather,"  said  Charley,  "  I  am  tired  to  death  of 
this  dismal  rain  and  of  hearing  the  wind  roar  in  the 
chimney.  I  have  had  no  good  time  all  day.  It  would 
be  better  to  hear  stories  about  the  chair  than  to  sit  doing 
nothing  and  thinking  of  nothing." 

To  say  the  truth,  our  friend  Charley  was  very  much 
out  of  humor  with  the  storm,  because  it  had  kept  him 
all  day  within  doors,  and  hindered  him  from  making  a 
trial  of  a  splendid  sled,  which  Grandfather  had  given 
him  for  a  New-Year's  gift.  As  all  sleds,  nowadays, 
must  have  a  name,  the  one  in  question  had  been  honored 
with  the  title  of  Grandfather's  chair,  which  was  painted 
in  golden  letters  on  each  of  the  sides.  Charley  greatly 
admired  the  construction  of  the  new  vehicle,  and  felt 
certain  that  it  would  outstrip  any  other  sled  that  ever 
dashed  adown  the  long  slopes  of  the  Common. 

As  for  Laurence,  he  happened  to  be  thinking,  just  at 
this  moment,  about  th^  history  of  the  chair.  Kind  old 
Grandfather  had  made  him  a  present  of  a  volume  of  en- 


144  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

graved  portraits,  representing  tlie  features  of  eminent 
and  famous  people  of  all  countries.  Among  them  Lau 
rence  found  several  who  had  formerly  occupied  our  chair 
or  been  connected  with  its  adventures.  While  Grand 
father  walked  to  and  fro  across  the  room,  the  imaginative 
boy  was  gazing  at  the  historic  chair.  He  endeavored  to 
summon  up  the  portraits  which  he  had  seen  in  his  volume, 
and  to  place  them,  like  living  figures,  in  the  empty  seat. 

"  The  old  chair  has  begun  another  year  of  its  exist 
ence,  to-day,"  said  Laurence.  "We  must  make  haste, 
or  it  will  have  a  new  history  to  be  told  before  we  finish 
the  old  one." 

"  Yes,  my  children,"  replied  Grandfather,  with  a  smile 
and  a  sigh,  "  another  year  has  been  added  to  those  of  the 
two  centuries  and  upward  which  have  passed  since  the 
Lady  Arbella  brought  this  chair  over  from  England. 
It  is  three  times  as  old  as  your  Grandfather ;  but  a  year 
makes  no  impression  on  its  oaken  frame,  while  it  bends 
the  old  man  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  earth ;  so  let  me  go 
on  with  my  stories  while  I  may." 

Accordingly  Grandfather  came  to  the  fireside  and 
seated  himself  in  the  venerable  chair.  The  lion's  head 
looked  down  with  a  grimly  good-natured  aspect  as  the 
children  clustered  around  the  old  gentleman's  knees.  It 
almost  seemed  as  if  a  real  lion  were  peeping  over  the 
back  of  the  chair,  and  smiling  at  the  group  of  auditors 
with  a  sort  of  lion-like  complaisance.  Little  Alice,  whose 
fancy  often  inspired  her  with  singular  ideas,  exclaimed 
that  the  lion's  head  was  nodding  at  her,  and  that  it  looked 
as  if  it  were  going  to  open  its  wide  jaws  and  tell  a  story. 

But  as  the  lion's  head  appeared  to  be  in  no  haste  to 
speak,  and  as  there  was  no  record  or  tradition  of  its  hav 
ing  spoken  during  the  whole  existence  of  the  chair, 
Grandfather  did  not  consider  it  worth  while  to  wait. 


CHAPTER    II. 

HARLEY,  my  boy,"  said  Grandfather,  "  do  you 
remember  who  was  the  last  occupant  of  the 

chair?" 

'  It  was  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson,"  answered 
Charley.  "  Sir  Erancis  Bernard,  the  new  governor,  had 
given  him  the  chair,  instead  of  putting  it  away  in  the 
garret  of  the  Province  House.  And  when  we  took 
leave  of  Hutchinson  he  was  sitting  by  his  fireside,  and 
thinking  of  the  past  adventures  of  the  chair  and  of 
what  was  to  come." 

"Very  well,"  said  Grandfather;  "and  you  recollect 
that  this  was  in  1763,  or  thereabouts,  at  the  close  of 
the  old  Erench  war.  Now,  that  you  may  fully  com 
prehend  the  remaining  adventures  of  the  chair,  I  must 
make  some  brief  remarks  on  the  situation  and  character 
of  the  New  England  colonies  at  this  period." 

So  Grandfather  spoke  of  the  earnest  loyalty  of  our 
fathers  during  the  old  Erench  war,  and  after  the  con 
quest  of  Canada  had  brought  that  war  to  a  triumphant 
close. 

The  people  loved  and  reverenced  the  King  of  England 

even  more  than  if  the  ocean  had  not  rolled  its  waves 

between  him   and  them  ;  for,  at  the  distance  of  three 

thousand  miles,  they  could  not  discover  his  bad  qualities 

7  J 


116  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

and  imperfections.  Their  love  was  increased  by  the 
dangers  which  they  had  encountered  in  order  to  heighten 
his  glory  and  extend  his  dominion.  Throughout  the 
war  the  American  colonists  had  fought  side  by  side  with 
the  soldiers  of  Old  England ;  and  nearly  thirty  thousand 
young  men  had  laid  down  their  lives  for  the  honor  of 
King  George.  And  the  survivors  loved  him  the  better 
because  they  had  done  and  suffered  so  much  for  his 
sake. 

But  there  were  some  circumstances  that  caused  Amer 
ica  to  feel  more  independent  of  England  than  at  an 
earlier  period.  Canada  and  Acadia  had  now  become 
British  provinces  ;  and  our  fathers  were  no  longer  afraid 
of  the  bands  of  French  and  Indians  who  used  to  assault 
them  in  old  times.  Eor  a  century  and  a  half  this  had 
been  the  great  terror  of  New  England.  Now  the  old 
Erench  soldier  was  driven  from  the  North  forever.  And 
even  had  it  been  otherwise,  the  English  colonies  were 
growing  so  populous  and  powerful,  that  they  might  have 
felt  fully  able  to  protect  themselves  without  any  help 
from  England. 

There  were  thoughtful  and  sagacious  men,  who  began 
to  doubt  whether  a  great  country  like  America  would 
always  be  content  to  remain  under  the  government  of 
an  island  three  thousand  miles  away.  This  was  the 
more  doubtful,  because  the  English  Parliament  had  long 
ago  made  laws  which  were  intended  to  be  very  beneficial 
to  England  at  the  expense  of  America.  By  these  laws 
the  colonists  were  forbidden  to  manufacture  articles  for 
their  own  use,  or  to  carry  on  trade  with  any  nation  but 
the  English. 

"  Now,"  continued  Grandfather,  "  if  King  George 
III.  and  his  counsellors  had  considered  these  things 
wisely,  they  would  have  taken  another  course  than  they 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  147 

did.  But  when  they  saw  how  rich  and  populous  the 
colonies  had  grown,  their  first  thought  was  how  they 
might  make  more  profit  out  of  them  than  heretofore. 
England  was  enormously  in  debt  at  the  close  of  the  old 
French  war;  and  it  was  pretended  that  this  debt  had 
been  contracted  for  the  defence  of  the  American  colonies, 
and  that,  therefore,  a  part  of  it  ought  to  be  paid  by 
them.3' 

"  Why,  this  was  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Charley.  "  Did 
not  our  fathers  spend  their  lives,  and  their  money  too,  to 
get  Canada  for  King  George  ?  " 

"  True,  they  did,"  said  Grandfather ;  "  and  they  told  the 
English  rulers  so.  But  the  king  and  his  ministers  would 
not  listen  to  good  advice.  In  1765  the  British  Parlia 
ment  passed  a  Stamp  Act." 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  inquired  Charley. 

11  The  Stamp  Act,"  replied  Grandfather,  "  was  a  law  by 
which  all  deeds,  bonds,  and  other  papers  of  the  same 
kind  were  ordered  to  be  marked  with  the  king's  stamp ; 
and  without  this  mark  they  were  declared  illegal  and 
void.  Now,  in  order  to  get  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  with 
the  king's  stamp  upon  it,  people  were  obliged  to  pay 
threepence  more  than  the  actual  value  of  the  paper. 
And  this  extra  sum  of  threepence  was  a  tax,  and  was  to 
be  paid  into  the  king's  treasury." 

"I  am  sure  threepence  was  not  worth  quarrelling 
about !  "  remarked  Clara. 

"  It  was  not  for  threepence,  nor  for  any  amount  of 
money,  that  America  quarrelled  with  England,"  replied 
Grandfather;  "it  was  for  a  great  principle.  The  col 
onists  were  determined  not  to  be  taxed  except  by  their 
own  representatives.  They  said  that  neither  the  king  and 
Parliament,  nor  any  other  power  on  earth,  had  a  right  to 
take  their  money  out  of  their  pockets  unless  they  freely 


14-8  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

gave  it.  And,  rather  than  pay  threepence  when  it  was 
unjustly  demanded,  they  resolved  to  sacrifice  all  the 
wealth  of  the  country,  and  their  lives  along  with  it. 
They  therefore  made  a  most  stubborn  resistance  to  the 
Stamp  Act." 

"  That  was  noble  !  "  exclaimed  Laurence.  "  I  under 
stand  how  it  was.  If  they  had  quietly  paid  the  tax  of 
threepence,  they  would  have  ceased  to  be  freemen,  and 
would  have  become  tributaries  of  England.  And  so  they 
contended  about  a  great  question  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  put  everything  at  stake  for  it." 

"You  are  right,  Laurence,"  said  Grandfather,  "and 
it  was  really  amazing  and  terrible  to  see  what  a  change 
came  over  the  aspect  of  the  people  the  moment  the  Eng 
lish  Parliament  had  passed  this  oppressive  act.  The 
former  history  of  our  chair,  my  children,  has  given  you 
some  idea  of  what  a  harsh,  unyielding,  stern  set  of  men 
the  old  Puritans  were.  Eor  a  good  many  years  back, 
however,  it  had  seemed  as  if  these  characteristics  were 
disappearing.  But  no  sooner  did  England  offer  wrong 
to  the  colonies  than  the  descendants  of  the  early  settlers 
proved  that  they  had  the  same  kind  of  temper  as  their 
forefathers.  The  moment  before,  New  England  appeared 
like  a  humble  and  loyal  subject  of  the  crown ;  the  next 
instant  she  showed  the  grim,  dark  features  of  an  old 
king-resisting  Puritan." 

Grandfather  spoke  briefly  of  the  public  measures  that 
were  taken  in  opposition  to  the  Stamp  Act.  As  this  law 
affected  all  the  American  colonies  alike,  it  naturally  led 
them  to  think  of  consulting  together  in  order  to  procure 
its  repeal.  For  this  purpose  the  Legislature  of  Massachu 
setts  proposed  that  delegates  from  every  colony  should 
meet  in  Congress.  Accordingly  nine  colonies,  both 
Northern  and  Southern,  sent  delegates  to  the  city  of 
New  York. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  149 

"  And  did  they  consult  about  going  to  war  with  Eng 
land  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"No,  Charley,"  answered  Grandfather;  "a  great  deal 
of  talking  was  yet  to  be  done  before  England  and  Amer 
ica  could  come  to  blows.  The  Congress  stated  the  rights 
and  grievances  of  the  colonists.  They  sent  a  humble  pe 
tition  to  the  king,  and  a  memorial  to  the  Parliament, 
beseeching  that  the  Stamp  Act  might  be  repealed.  This 
was  all  that  the  delegates  had  it  in  their  power  to  do." 

"  They  might  as  well  have  stayed  at  home,  then,"  said 
Charley. 

"By  no  means/'  replied  Grandfather.  "It  was  a  most 
important  and  memorable  event,  this  first  coming  together 
of  the  American  people  by  their  representatives  from  the 
North  and  South.  If  England  had  been  wise,  she  would 
have  trembled  at  the  first  word  that  was  spoken  in  such 
an  assembly." 

These  remonstrances  and  petitions,  as  Grandfather  ob 
served,  were  the  work  of  grave,  thoughtful,  and  prudent 
men.  Meantime  the  young  and  hot-headed  people  went 
to  work  in  their  own  way.  It  is  probable  that  the  peti 
tions  of  Congress  would  have  had  little  or  no  effect  on 
the  British  statesmen  if  the  violent  deeds  of  the  American 
people  had  not  shown  how  much  excited  the  people  were. 
LIBERTY  TREE  was  soon  heard  of  in  England. 

"What  was  Liberty'Tree  ?  "  inquired  Clara. 

"It  was  an  old  elm-tree,"  answered  Grandfather, 
"  which  stood  near  the  corner  of  Essex  Street,  opposite 
the  Boylston  Market.  Under  the  spreading  branches  of 
this  great  tree  the  people  used  to  assemble  whenever  they 
wished  to  express  their  feelings  and  opinions.  Thus, 
after  a  while,  it  seemed  as  if  the  liberty  of  the  country 
was  connected  with  Liberty  Tree." 

"  It  was  glorious  fruit  for  a  tree  to  bear,"  remarked 
Laurence. 


150  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  It  bore  strange  fruit,  sometimes/'  said  Grandfather. 
"  One  morning  in  August,  1765,  two  figures  were  found 
hanging  on  the  sturdy  branches  of  Liberty  Tree.  They 
were  dressed  in  square-skirted  coats  and  small-clothes  ; 
and,  as  their  wigs  hung  down  over  their  faces,  they 
looked  like  real  men.  One  was  intended  to  represent 
the  Earl  of  Bute,  who  was  supposed  to  have  advised  the 
king  to  tax  America.  The  other  was  meant  for  the 
effigy  of  Andrew  Oliver,  a  gentleman  belonging  to  one 
of  the  most  respectable  families  in  Massachusetts." 

"  What  harm  had  he  done  ?  "  inquired  Charley. 

"The  king  had  appointed  him  to  be  distributor  of  the 
stamps,"  answered  Grandfather.  "  Mr.  Oliver  would 
have  made  a  great  deal  of  money  by  this  business.  But 
the  people  frightened  him  so  much  by  hanging  him  in 
effigy,  and  afterwards  by  breaking  into  his  house,  that 
lie  promised  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  stamps. 
And  all  the  king's  friends  throughout  America  were  com 
pelled  to  make  the  same  promise." 


CHAPTER    III. 

LIEUTENANT  -  GOVERNOR  HUTCHIN 
SON,"  continued  Grandfather,  "  now  began  to 
be  unquiet  in  our  old  chair.  He  had  formerly 
been  much  respected  and  beloved  by  the  people,  and 
had  often  proved  himself  a  friend  to  their  interests.  But 
the  time  was  come  when  he  could  not  be  a  friend  to  the 
people  without  ceasing  to  be  a  friend  to  the  king.  It 
was  pretty  generally  understood  that  Hutchinson  would 
act  according  to  the  king's  wishes,  right  or  wrong,  like 
most  of  the  other  gentlemen  who  held  offices  under  the 
crown.  Besides,  as  he  was  brother-in-law  of  Andrew 
Oliver,  the  people  now  felt  a  particular  dislike  to  him." 

"I  should  think,"  said  Laurence,  "as  Mr.  Hutch 
inson  had  written  the  history  of  our  Puritan  forefathers, 
he  would  have  known  what  the  temper  of  the  people 
was,  and  so  have  taken  care  not  to  wrong  them." 

"  He  trusted  in  the  might  of  the  King  of  England," 
replied  Grandfather,  "  and  thought  himself  safe  under 
the  shelter  of  the  throne.  If  no  dispute  had  arisen  be 
tween  the  king  and  the  people,  Hutchinson  would  have 
had  the  character  of  a  wise,  good,  and  patriotic  magis 
trate.  But,  from  the  time  that  he  took  part  against  the 
rights  of  his  country,  the  people's  love  and  respect  were 
turned  to  scorn  and  hatred,  and  he  never  had  another 
hour  of  peace." 


152  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

In  order  to  show  what  a  fierce  and  dangerous  spirit 
was  now  aroused  among  the  inhabitants,  Grandfather  re 
lated  a  passage  from  history  which  we  shall  call 

THE  HUTCHINSON  MOB. 

On  the  evening  of  the  26th  of  August,  1765,  a  bonfire 
was  kindled  in  King  Street.  It  flamed  high  upward, 
and  threw  a  ruddy  light  over  the  front  of  the  Town 
House,  on  which  was  displayed  a  carved  representation 
of  the  royal  arms.  The  gilded  vane  of  the  cupola  glit 
tered  in  the  blaze.  The  kindling  of  this  bonfire  was  the 
well-known  signal  for  the  populace  of  Boston  to  assemble 
in  the  street. 

Before  the  tar-barrels,  of  which  the  bonfire  was  made, 
were  half  burned  out,  a  great  crowd  had  come  together. 
They  were  chiefly  laborers  and  seafaring  men,  together 
with  many  young  apprentices,  and  all  those  idle  people 
about  town  who  are  ready  for  any  kind  of  mischief. 
Doubtless  some  school-boys  were  among  them. 

While  these  rough  figures  stood  round  the  blazing  bon 
fire,  you  might  hear  them  speaking  bitter  words  against 
the  high  officers  of  the  province.  Governor  Bernard, 
Hutchinson,  Oliver,  Storey,  Hallowell,  and  other  men 
whom  King  George  delighted  to  honor,  were  reviled  as 
traitors  to  the  country.  Now  and  then,  perhaps,  an  offi 
cer  of  the  crown  passed  along  the  street,  wearing  the 
gold-laced  hat,  white  wig,  and  embroidered  waistcoat 
which  were  the  fashion  of  the  day.  But  when  the  peo 
ple  beheld  him  they  set  up  a  wild  and  angry  howl ;  and 
their  faces  had  an  evil  aspect,  which  was  made  more 
terrible  by  the  flickering  blaze  of  the  bonfire. 

"I  should  like  to  throw  the  traitor  right  into  that 
blaze !  "  perhaps  one  fierce  rioter  would  say. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  153 

"  Yes ;  and  all  his  brethren  too  !  "  another  might  reply  ; 
(C  and  the  governor  and  old  Tommy  liutchinson  into  the 
hottest  of  it !  " 

"  And  the  Earl  of  Bute  along  with  them  !  "  muttered 
a  third ;  "  and  burn  the  whole  pack  of  them  under  King 
George's  nose  !  No  matter  if  it  singed  him  !  " 

Some  such  expressions  as  these,  either  shouted  aloud 
or  muttered  under  the  breath,  were  doubtless  heard  in 
King  Street.  The  mob,  meanwhile,  were  growing  fiercer 
and  fiercer,  and  seemed  ready  even  to  set  the  town  on 
fire  for  the  sake  of  burning  the  king's  friends  out  of 
house  and  home.  And  yet,  angry  as  they  were,  they 
sometimes  broke  into  a  loud  roar  of  laughter,  as  if  mis 
chief  and  destruction  were  their  sport. 

But  we  must  now  leave  the  rioters  for  a  time,  and 
take  a  peep  into  the  lieutenant-governor's  splendid  man 
sion.  It  was  a  large  brick  house,  decorated  with  Ionic 
pilasters,  and  stood  in  Garden  Court  Street,  near  the 
North  Square. 

While  the  angry  mob  in  King  Street  were  shouting 
his  name,  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson  sat  quietly 
in  Grandfather's  chair,  unsuspicious  of  the  evil  that 
was  about  to  fall  upon  his  head.  His  beloved  family 
were  in  the  room  with  him.  He  had  thrown  off  his 
embroidered  coat  and  powdered  wig,  and  had  on  a 
loose-flowing  gown  and  purple-velvet  cap.  He  had  like 
wise  laid  aside  the  cares  of  state  and  all  the  thoughts 
that  had  wearied  and  perplexed  him  throughout  the 
day. 

Perhaps,  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  home,  he  had  forgotten 
all  about  the  Stamp  Act,  and  scarcely  remembered  that 
there  was  a  king,  across  the  ocean,  who  had  resolved  to 
make  tributaries  of  the  New-Englanders.  Possibly,  too, 
he  had  forgotten  his  own  ambition,  and  would  not  have 
7* 


151  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

exchanged  his  situation,  at  that  moment,  to  be  governor, 
or  even  a  lord. 

The  wax  candles  were  now  lighted,  and  showed  a  hand 
some  room,  well  provided  with  rich  furniture.  On  the 
walls  hung  the  pictures  of  Hutchinson's  ancestors,  who 
had  been  eminent  men  in  their  day  and  were  honorably 
remembered  in  the  history  of  the  country.  Every  object 
served  to  mark  the  residence  of  a  rich,  aristocratic  gentle 
man,  who  held  himself  high  above  the  common  people, 
and  could  have  nothing  to  fear  from  them.  In  a  corner 
of  the  room,  thrown  carelessly  upon  a  chair,  were  the 
scarlet  robes  of  the  chief  justice.  This  high  office,  as 
well  as  those  of  lieutenant-governor,  councillor,  and 
judge  of  probate,  was  filled  by  Hutchinson. 

Who  or  what  could  disturb  the  domestic  quiet  of  sucli 
a  great  and  powerful  personage  as  now  sat  in  Grand 
father's  chair  ? 

The  lieutenant-governor's  favorite  daughter  sat  by  his 
side.  She  leaned  on  the  arm  of  our  great  chair,  and 
looked  up  affectionately  into  her  father's  face,  rejoicing 
to  perceive  that  a  quiet  smile  was  on  his  lips.  But  sud 
denly  a  shade  came  across  her  countenance.  She  seemed 
to  listen  attentively,  as  if  to  catch  a  distant  sound. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  child  ?  "  inquired  Hutchinson. 

"  Father,  do  not  you  hear  a  tumult  in  the  streets  ?  " 
said  she. 

The  lieutenant-governor  listened.  But  his  ears  were 
duller  than  those  of  his  daughter ;  he  could  hear  nothing 
more  terrible  than  the  sound  of  a  summer  breeze,  sighing 
among  the  tops  of  the  elm-trees. 

"  No,  foolish  child  !  "  he  replied,  playfully  patting  her 
cheek.  "There  is  no  tumult.  Our  Boston  mobs  are 
satisfied  with  what  mischief  they  have  already  done.  The 
king's  friends  need  not  tremble." 


Git  AND  FATHER'S    CHAIR.  155 

So  Hutchinsou  resumed  his  pleasant  and  peaceful  medi 
tations,  and  again  forgot  that  there  were  any  troubles  in 
the  world.  But  his  family  were  alarmed,  and  could  not 
help  straining  their  ears  to  catch  the  slightest  sound. 
More  and  more  distinctly  they  heard  shouts,  and  then 
the  trampling  of  many  feet.  While  they  were  listening, 
one  of  the  neighbors  rushed  breathless  into  the  room. 

"  A  mob  !  a  terrible  mob  !  "  cried  he.  "  They  have 
broken  into  Mr.  Storey's  house,  and  into  Mr.  Hallo- 
well's,  and  have  made  themselves  drunk  with  the  liquors 
in  his  cellar ;  and  now  they  are  coming  hither,  as  wild  as 
so  many  tigers.  Elee,  lieutenant-governor,  for  your  life  ! 
for  your  life  !  " 

"  Father,  dear  father,  make  haste  !  "  shrieked  his  chil 
dren. 

But  Hutchinson  would  not  hearken  to  them.  He  was 
an  old  lawyer ;  and  he  could  not  realize  that  the  people 
would  do  anything  so  utterly  lawless  as  to  assault  him 
in  his  peaceful  home.  He  was  one  of  King  George's 
chief  officers ;  and  it  would  be  an  insult  and  outrage 
upon  the  king  himself  if  the  lieutenant-governor  should 
suffer  any  wrong. 

"  Have  no  fears  on  my  account,"  said  he.  "  I  am  per 
fectly  safe.  The  king's- name  shall  be  my  protection." 

Yet  he  bade  his  family  retire  into  one  of  the  neighbor 
ing  houses.  His  daughter  would  have  remained ;  but  hs 
forced  her  away. 

The  huzzas  and  riotous  uproar  of  the  mob  were  now 
heard,  close  at  hand.  The  sound  was  terrible,  and  struck 
Hutchinson  with  the  same  sort  of  dread  as  if  an  enraged 
wild  beast  had  broken  loose  and  were  roaring  for  its 
prey.  He  crept  softly  to  the  window.  There  he  beheld 
an  immense  concourse  of  people,  filling  all  the  street  and 
rolling  onward  to  his  house.  It  was  like  a  tempestuous 


156  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

flood,  that  had  swelled  beyond  its  bounds  and  would 
sweep  everything  before  it.  Hutchinson  trembled;  he 
felt,  at  that  moment,  that  the  wrath  of  the  people  was  a 
thousand-fold  more  terrible  than  the  wrath  of  a  king. 

That  was  a  moment  when  a  loyalist  and  an  aristocrat 
like  Hutchinson  might  have  learned  how  powerless  are 
kings,  nobles,  and  great  men,  when  the  low  and  humble 
range  themselves  against  them.  King  George  could  do 
nothing  for  his  servant  now.  Had  King  George  been 
there  he  could  have  done  nothing  for  himself.  If  Hutch 
inson  had  understood  this  lesson,  and  remembered  it,  he 
need  not,  in  after  years,  have  been  an  exile  from  his  na 
tive  country,  nor  finally  have  laid  his  bones  in  a  distant 
land. 

There  was  now  a  rush  against  the  doors  of  the  house. 
The  people  sent  up  a  hoarse  cry.  At  this  instant  the 
lieutenant-governor's  daughter,  whom  he  had  supposed 
to  be  in  a  place  of  safety,  ran  into  the  room  and  threw 
her  arms  around  him.  She  had  returned  by  a  private 
entrance. 

"  Father,  are  you  mad  ? "  cried  she.  "  Will  the 
king's  name  protect  you  now  ?  Come  with  me,  or  they 
will  have  your  life." 

"True,"  muttered  Hutchinson  to  himself;  "  what  care 
these  roarers  for  the  name  of  king  ?  I  must  flee,  or  they 
will  trample  me  down  on  the  floor  of  my  own  dwelling." 

Hurrying  away,  he  and  his  daughter  made  their  escape 
by  the  private  passage  at  the  moment  when  the  rioters 
broke  into  the  house.  The  foremost  of  them  rushed  up 
the  staircase,  and  entered  the  room  which  Hutchinson 
had  just  quitted.  There  they  beheld  our  good  old  chair 
facing  them  with  quiet  dignity,  while  the  lion's  head 
seemed  to  move  its  jaws  in  the  unsteady  light  of  their 
torches.  Perhaps  the  stately  aspect  of  our  venerable 


i 


I 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  157 

friend,  which  had  stood  firm  through  a  century  and  a 
half  of  trouble,  arrested  them  for  an  instant.  But  they 
were  thrust  forward  by  those  behind,  and  the  chair  lay 
overthrown. 

Then  began  the  work  of  destruction.  The  carved  and 
polished  mahogany  tables  were  shattered  with  heavy 
clubs  and  hewn  to  splinters  with  axes.  The  marble 
hearths  and  mantel-pieces  were  broken.  The  volumes  of 
Hutchinson's  library,  so  precious  to  a  studious  man, 
were  torn  out  of  their  covers,  and  the  leaves  sent  flying 
out  of  the  windows.  Manuscripts,  containing  secrets  of 
our  country's  history,  which  are  now  lost  forever,  were 
scattered  to  the  winds. 

The  old  ancestral  portraits,  whose  fixed  countenances 
looked  down  on  the  wild  scene,  were  rent  from  the 
walls.  The  mob  triumphed  in  their  downfall  and  de 
struction,  as  if  these  pictures  of  Hutchinson's  forefathers 
had  committed  the  same  offences  as  their  descendant. 
A  tall  looking-glass,  which  had  hitherto  presented  a 
reflection  of  the  enraged  and  drunken  multitude,  was 
now  smashed  into  a  thousand  fragments.  We  gladly 
dismiss  the  scene  from  the  mirror  of  our  fancy. 

Before  morning  dawned  the  walls  of  the  house  were 
all  that  remained.  The  interior  was  a  dismal  scene  of 
ruin.  A  shower  pattered  in  at  the  broken  windows ; 
and  when  Hutchinson  and  his  family  returned,  they 
stood  shivering  in  the  same  room  where  the  last  evening 
had  seen  them  so  peaceful  and  happy. 

"  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence,  indignantly,  "  if  the 
people  acted  in  this  manner,  they  were  not  worthy  of 
even  so  much  liberty  as  the  King  of  England  was  will 
ing  to  allow  them." 

"  It  was  a  most   unjustifiable   act,  like  many  other 


158  GRANDFATHEIl'S    CHAIR. 

popular  movements  at  that  time,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  But  we  must  not  decide  against  the  justice  of  the 
people's  cause  merely  because  an  excited  mob  was  guilty 
of  outrageous  violence.  Besides,  all  these  things  were 
done  in  the  first  fury  of  resentment.  Afterwards  the 
people  grew  more  calm,  and  were  more  influenced  by 
the  counsel  of  those  wise  and  good  men  who  conducted 
them  safely  and  gloriously  through  the  Revolution." 

Little  Alice,  with  tears  in  her  blue  eyes,  said  that  she 
hoped  the  neighbors  had  not  let  Lieutenant  -Governor 
Hutchinson  and  his  family  be  homeless  in  the  street,  but 
had  taken  them  into  their  houses  and  bean  kind  to  them. 
Cousin  Clara,  recollecting  the  perilous  situation  of  our 
beloved  chair,  inquired  what  had  become  of  it. 

"  Nothing  was  heard  of  our  chair  for  some  time  after 
wards,"  answered  Grandfather.  "  One  clay,  in  Septem 
ber,  the  same  Andrew  Oliver,  of  whom  I  before  told  you, 
was  summoned  to  appear  at  high  noon  under  Liberty 
Tree.  This  was  the  strangest  summons  that  had  ever 
been  heard  of;  for  it  was  issued  in  the  name  of  the  whole 
people,  who  thus  took  upon  theirrselves  the  authority  of  a 
sovereign  power.  Mr.  Oliver  dared  not  disobey.  Ac 
cordingly,  at  the  appointed  hour  he  went,  much  against. 
his  will,  to  Liberty  Tree." 

Here  Charley  interposed  a  remark  that  poor  Mr.  Oliver 
found  but  little  liberty  under  Liberty  Tree.  Grandfather 
assented. 

"It  was  a  stormy  day,"  continued  he.  "The  equinoc 
tial  gale  blew  violently,  and  scattered  the  yellow  leaves  of 
Liberty  Tree  all  along  the  street.  Mr.  Oliver's  wig  was 
dripping  with  water-drops  ;  and  he  probably  looked  hag 
gard,  disconsolate,  and  humbled  to  the  earth.  Beneath 
the  tree,  in  Grandfather's  chair,  —  our  own  venerable 
chair,  —  sat  Mr.  Richard  Dana,  a  justice  of  the  peace. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


159 


He  administered  an  oath  to  Mr.  Oliver  that  he  would 
never  have  anything  to  do  with  distributing  the  stamps. 
A  vast  concourse  of  people  heard  the  oath,  and  shouted 
when  it  was  taken." 

"  There  is  something  grand  in  this,"  said  Laurence. 
"  I  like  it,  because  the  people  seem  to  have  acted  with 
thoughtt'ulness  and  dignity ;  and  this  proud  gentleman, 
one  of  his  Majesty's  high  officers,  was  made  to  feel  that 
King  George  could  not  protect  him  in  doing  wrong." 

"But  it  was  a  sad  day  for  poor  Mr.  Oliver,"  observed 
Grandfather.  "Prom  his  youth  upward  it  had  probably 
been  the  great  principle  of  his  life  to  be  faithful  and  obe 
dient  to  the  king.  And  now,  in  his  old  age,  it  must  have 
puzzled  and  distracted  him  to  find  the  sovereign  people 
setting  up  a  claim  to  his  faith  and  obedience." 

Grandfather  closed  the  evening's  conversation  by  say 
ing  that  the  discontent  of  America  was  so  great,  that,  in 
1766,  the  British  Parliament  was  compelled  to  repeal  the 
Stamp  Act.  The  people  made  great  rejoicings,  but  took 
care  to  keep  Liberty  Tree  well  pruned  and  free  from  cat 
erpillars  and  canker-worms.  They  foresaw  that  there 
might  yet  be  occasion  for  them  to  assemble  under  its  far- 
projecting  shadow. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


|HE  next  evening,  Clara,  who  remembered  that 
our  chair  had  been  left  standing  in  the  rain  un 
der  Liberty  Tree,  earnestly  besought  Grand 
father  to  tell  when  and  where  it  had  next  found  shelter. 
Perhaps  she  was  afraid  that  the  venerable  chair,  by  being 
exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  a  September  gale,  might 
get  the  rheumatism  in  its  aged  joints. 

"The  chair,"  said  Grandfather,  " after  the  ceremony 
of  Mr.  Oliver's  oath,  appears  to  have  been  quite  for 
gotten  by  the  multitude.  Indeed,  being  much  bruised 
and  rather  rickety,  owing  to  the  violent  treatment  it  had 
suffered  from  the  Hutchinson  mob,  most  people  would 
have  thought  that  its  days  of  usefulness  were  over. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  conveyed  away  under  cover  of  the 
night  and  committed  to  the  care  of  a  skilful  joiner. 
He  doctored  our  old  friend  so  successfully,  that,  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  it  made  its  appearance  in  the  pub 
lic  room  of  the  British  Coffee  House,  in  King  Street." 
». "  But  why  did  not  Mr.  Hutchinson  get  possession  of 
it  again  ?  "  inquired  Charley. 

"I  know  not,"  answered  Grandfather,  "unless  he  con 
sidered  it  a  dishonor  and  disgrace  to  the  chair  io  have 
stood  under  Liberty  Tree.  At  all  events,  he  suffered  it 
to  remain  at  the  British  Coffee  House,  which  was  the 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  161 

principal  hotel  in  Boston.  It  could  not  possibly  have 
found  a  situation  where  it  would  be  more  in  the  midst  of 
business  and  bustle,  or  would  witness  more  important 
events,  or  be  occupied  by  a  greater  variety  of  persons." 

Grandfather  went  on  to  tell  the  proceedings  of  the 
despotic  king  and  ministry  of  England  after  the  repeal  of 
the  Stamp  Act.  They  could  not  bear  to  think  that  their 
right  to  tax  America  should  be  disputed  by  the  people. 
In  the  year  1767,  therefore,  they  caused  Parliament  to 
pass  an  act  for  laying  a  duty  on  tea  and  some  other 
articles  that  were  in  general  use.  Nobody  could  now 
buy  a  pound  of  tea  without  paying  a  tax  to  King  George. 
This  scheme  was  pretty  craftily  contrived ;  for  the  women 
of  America  were  very  fond  of  tea,  and  did  not  like  to 
give  up  the  use  of  it. 

But  the  people  were  as  much  opposed  to  this  new  act 
of  Parliament  as  they  had  been  to  the  Stamp  Act.  Eng 
land,  however,  was  determined  that  they  should  submit. 
In  order  to  compel  their  obedience,  two  regiments,  con 
sisting  of  more  than  seven  hundred  British  soldiers,  were 
sent  to  Boston.  They  arrived  in  September,  1768,  and 
were  landed  on  Long  Wharf.  Thence  they  marched  to 
the  Common  witjj  loaded  muskets,  fixed  bayonets,  and 
great  pomp  and  parade.  So  now,  at  last,  the  free  town 
of  Boston  was  guarded  and  overawed  by  redcoats  as  it 
had  been  in  the  days  of  old  Sir  Edmund  Andros. 

In  the  month  of  November  more  regiments  arrived. 
There  were  now  four  thousand  troops  in  Boston.  The 
Common  was  whitened  with  their  tents.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  were  lodged  in  Faneuil  Hall,  which  the  inhabi 
tants  looked  upon  as  a  consecrated  place,  because  it  had 
been  the  scene  of  a  great  many  meetings  in  favor  of  lib 
erty.  One  regiment  was  placed  in  the  Town  House, 
which  we  now  call  the  Old  State  House.  The  lower 


162  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

floor  of  tliis  edifice  had  hitherto  been  used  by  the  mer 
chants  as  an  exchange.  In  the  upper  stones  were  the 
chambers  of  the  judges,  the  representatives,  and  the  gov 
ernor's  council.  The  venerable  councillors  could  not 
assemble  to  consult  about  the  welfare  of  the  province 
without  being  challenged  by  sentinels  and  passing  among 
the  bayonets  of  the  British  soldiers. 

Sentinels  likewise  were  posted  at  the  lodgings  of  the 
officers  in  many  parts  of  the  town.  When  the  inhabi 
tants  approached  they  were  greeted  by  the  sharp  ques 
tion,  "  Who  goes  there  ?  "  while  the  rattle  of  the  soldier's 
musket  was  heard  as  he  presented  it  against  their  breasts. 
There  was  no  quiet  even  on  the  Sabbath  day.  The  pious 
descendants  of  the  Puritans  were  shocked  by  the  uproar 
of  military  music ;  the  drum,  fife,  and  bugle  drowning  the 
holy  organ  peal  and  the  voices  of  the  singers.  It  would 
appear  as  if  the  British  took  every  method  to  insult  the 
feelings  of  the  people. 

"  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  impatiently,  "  the  peo 
ple  did  not  go  to  fighting  half  soon  enough !  These 
British  redcoats  ought  to  have  been  driven  back  to  their 
vessels  the  very  moment  they  landed  on  Long  Wharf." 

"Many  a  hot-headed  young  man  said  the  same  as 
you  do,  Charley,"  answered  Grandfather.  "But  the 
elder  and  wiser  people  saw  that  the  time  was  not  yet 
come.  Meanwhile,  let  us  take  another  peep  at  our  old 
chair." 

"Ah,  it  drooped  its  head,  I  know,"  said  Charley, 
"when  it  saw  how  the  province  was  disgraced.  Its  old 
Puritan  friends  never  would  have  borne  such  doings." 

"  The  chair,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "  was  now  con 
tinually  occupied  by  some  of  the  high  tories,  as  the  king's 
friends  were  called,  who  frequented  the  British  Coffee 
House.  Officers  of  the  Custom  House,  too,  which  stood 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  163 

on  the  opposite  side  of  King  Street,  often  sat  in  the  chair 
wagging  their  tongues  against  John  Hancock." 

"  Why  against  him  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"Because  he  was  a  great  merchant  and  contended 
against  paying  duties  to  the  king,"  said  Grandfather. 

"  Well,  frequently,  no  doubt,  the  officers  of  the  Brit 
ish  regiments,  when  not  on  duty,  used  to  fling  them 
selves  into  the  arms  of  our  venerable  chair.  Fancy  one 
of  them,  a  red-nosed  captain  in  his  scarlet  uniform,  play 
ing  with  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  and  making  a  circle  of  his 
brother  officers  merry  with  ridiculous  jokes  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  poor  Yankees.  And  perhaps  he  would  call 
for  a  bottle  of  wine,  or  a  steaming  bowl  of  punch,  and 
drink  confusion  to  all  rebels." 

"Our  grave  old  chair  must  have  been  scandalized  at 
such  scenes,"  observed  Laurence ;  "  the  chair  that  had 
been  the  Lady  Arbella's,  and  which  the  holy  apostle 
Eliot  had  consecrated." 

"It  certainly  was  little  less  than  sacrilege,"  replied 
Grandfather;  "but  the  time  was  coming  when  even  the 
churches,  where  hallowed  pastors  had  long  preached  the 
word  of  God,  were  to  be  torn  down  or  desecrated  by  the 
British  troops.  Some  years  passed,  however,  before  such 
things  were  done." 

Grandfather  now  told  his  auditors  that,  in  1769,  Sir 
Francis  Bernard  went  to  England  after  having  been  gov 
ernor  of  Massachusetts  ten  years.  He  was  a  gentleman 
of  many  good  qualities,  an  excellent  scholar,  and  a  friend 
to  learning.  But  he  was  naturally  of  an  arbitrary  dispo 
sition  ;  and  he  had  been  bred  at  the  University  of  Ox 
ford,  where  young  men  were  taught  that  the  divine  right 
of  kings  was  the  only  tiling  to  be  regarded  in  matters  of 
government.  Such  ideas  were  ill  adapted  to  please  the 
people  of  Massachusetts.  They  rejoiced  to  get  rid  of 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR: 

Sir  Francis  Bernard,  but  liked  his  successor,  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Hutchinson,  no  better  than  himself. 

About  this  period  the  people  were  much  incensed  at 
an  act  committed  by  a  person  who  held  an  office  in  the 
Custom  House.  Some  lads,  or  young  men,  were  snow 
balling  his  windows.  He  fired  a  musket  at  them,  and 
killed  a  poor  German  boy,  only  eleven  years  old.  This 
event  made  a  great  noise  in  town  and  country,  and  much 
increased  the  resentment  that  was  already  felt  against 
the  servants  of  the  crown. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Grandfather,  "  I  wish  to  make 
you  comprehend  the  position  of  the  British  troops  in 
King  Street.  This  is  the  same  which  we  now  call  State 
Street.  On  the  south  side  of  the  Town  House,  or  Old 
State  House,  was  what  military  men  call  a  court  of  guard, 
defended  by  two  brass  cannons,  which  pointed  directly 
at  one  of  the  doors  of  the  above  edifice.  A  large  party 
of  soldiers  .were  always  stationed  in  the  court  of  guard. 
The  Custom  House  stood  at  a  little  distance  down  King 
Street,  nearly  where  the  Suffolk  Bank  now  stands,  and 
a  sentinel  was  continually  pacing  before  its  front." 

"  I  shall  remember  this  to-morrow,"  said  Charley ; 
"  and  I  will  go  to  State  Street,  so  as  to  see  exactly 
where  the  British  troops  were  stationed." 

"And  before  long,"  observed  Grandfather,  "I  shall 
Inve  to  relate  an  event  which  made  King  Street  sadly 
famous  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  The  history  of 
our  chair  will  soon  bring  us  to  this  melancholy  busi 
ness." 

Here  Grandfather  described  the  state  of  things  which 
arose  from  the  ill  will  that  existed  between  the  inhabi 
tants  and  the  redcoats.  The  old  and  sober  part  of  the 
townspeople  were  very  angry  at  the  government  for  send 
ing  soldiers  to  overawe  them.  But  those  gray-headed 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  165 

men  were  cautious,  and  kept  tlieir  thoughts  and  feelings 
in  their  own  breasts,  without  putting  themselves  in  the 
way  of  the  British  bayonets. 

The  younger  people,  however,  could  hardly  be  kept 
within  such  prudent  limits.  They  reddened  with  wrath 
at  the  very  sight  of  a  soldier,  and  would  have  been  will 
ing  to  come  to  blows  with  them  at  any  moment.  For  it 
was  their  opinion  that  every  tap  of  a  British  drum  within 
the  peninsula  of  Boston  was  an  insult  to  the  brave  old 
town. 

"  It  was  sometimes  the  case,"  continued  Grandfather, 
"  that  affrays  happened  between  such  wild  young  men  as 
these  and  small  parties  of  the  soldiers.  No  weapons  had 
hitherto  been  used  except  fists  or  cudgels.  But  when 
men  have  loaded  muskets  in  their  hands,  it  is  easy  to 
foretell  that  they  will  soon  be  turned  against  the  bosoms 
of  those  who  provoke  their  anger." 

"  Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  looking  fearfully  into 
his  face,  "  your  voice  sounds  as  though  you  were  going 
to  tell  us  something  awful !  " 


CHAPTEE   V. 

|ITTLE  ALICE,  by  her  last  remark,  proved  her. 
self  a  good  judge  of  what  was  expressed  by  the 
tones  of  Grandfather's  voice.  He  had  given  the 
above  description  of  the  enmity  between  the  townspeople 
and  the  soldiers  in  order  to  prepare  the  minds  of  his 
auditors  for  a  very  terrible  event.  It  was  one  that  did 
more  to  heighten  the  quarrel  between  England  and 
America  than  anything  that  had  yet  occurred. 

Without  further  preface,  Grandfather  began  the  story  of 

THE  BOSTON  MASSACRE. 

It  was  now  the  3d  of  March,  1770.  The  sunset  music 
of  the  British  regiments  was  heard  as  usual  throughout 
the  town.  The  shrill  fife  and  rattling  drum  awoke  the 
echoes  in  King  Street,  while  the  last  ray  of  sunshine  was 
lingering  on  the  cupola  of  the  Town  House.  And  now 
all  the  sentinels  were  posted.  One  of  them  marched  up 
and  down  before  the  Custom  House,  treading  a  short 
path  through  the  snow,  and  longing  for  the  time  when  he 
would  be  dismissed  to  the  warm  fireside  of  the  guard 
room.  Meanwhile  Captain  Preston  was,  perhaps,  sitting 
in  our  great  chair  before  the  hearth  of  the  British  Coffee 
House.  In  the  course  of  the  evening  there  were  two  or 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  167 

three  slight  commotions,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
trouble  was  at  hand.  Small  parties  of  young  men  stood 
at  the  corners  of  the  streets  or  walked  along  the  narrow 
pavements.  Squads  of  soldiers  who  were  dismissed  from 
duty  passed  by  them,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  with  the  regu 
lar  step  which  they  had  learned  at  the  drill.  Whenever 
these  encounters  took  place,  it  appeared  to  be  the  object 
of  the  young  men  to  treat  the  soldiers  with  as  much 
incivility  as  possible. 

"  Turn  out,  you  lobsterbacks ! "  one  would  say. 
"  Crowd  them  -off  the  sidewalks  !  "  another  would  cry. 
"  A  redcoat  has  no  right  in  Boston  streets  !  " 

"  O,  you  rebel  rascals  ! "  perhaps  the  soldiers  would 
reply,  glaring  fiercely  at  the  young  men.  "  Some  day  or 
other  we  '11  make  our  way  through  Boston  streets  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet !  " 

Once  or  twice  such  disputes  as  these  brought  on  a 
scuffle ;  which  passed  oft',  however,  without  attracting 
much  notice.  About  eight  o'clock,  for  some  unknown, 
cause,  an  alarm-bell  rang  loudly  and  hurriedly. 

At  the  sound  many  people  ran  out  of  their  houses, 
supposing  it  to  be  an  alarm  of  fire.  But  there  were  no 
flames  to  be  seen ;  nor  was  there  any  smell  of  smoke  in 
the  clear,  frosty  air ;  so  that  most  of  the  townsmen  went 
back  to  their  own  firesides  and  sat  talking  with  their 
wives  and  children  about  the  calamities  of  the  times. 
Others  who  were  younger  and  less  prudent  remained  in 
the  streets;  for  there  seems  to  have  been  a  presentiment 
that  some  strange  event  was  on  the  eve  of  taking  place. 

Later  in  the  evening,  not  far  from  nine  o'clock,  sev 
eral  young  men  passed  by  the  Town  House  and  walked 
down  King  Street.  The  sentinel  was  still  on  his  post  in 
front  of  the  Custom  House,  pacing  to  and  fro ;  while,  as 
he  turned,  a  gleam  of  light  from  some  neighboring  win- 


168  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

dow  glittered  on  the  barrel  of  his  musket.  At  no  great 
distance  were  the  barracks  and  the  guard-house,  where 
his  comrades  were  probably  telling  stories  of  battle  and 
bloodshed. 

Down  towards  the  Custom  House,  as  I  told  you,  came 
a  party  of  wild  young  men.  When  they  drew  near  the 
sentinel  he  halted  on  his  post,  and  took  his  musket  from 
his  shoulder,  ready  to  present  the  bayonet  at  their  breasts. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  he  cried,  in  the  gruff,  peremp 
tory  tones  of  a  soldier's  challenge. 

The  young  men,  being  Boston  boys,  felt  as  if  they  had 
a  right  to  walk  their  own  streets  without  being  account 
able  to  a  British  redcoat,  even  though  he  challenged  them 
in  King  George's  name.  They  made  some  rude  answer  to 
the  sentinel.  There  was  a  dispute,  or  perhaps  a  sculfle. 
Other  soldiers  heard  the  noise,  and  ran  hastily  from  the 
barracks  to  assist  their  comrades.  At  the  same  time 
many  of  the  townspeople  rushed  into  King  Street  by 
various  avenues,  and  gathered  in  a  crowd  round  about 
the  Custom  House.  It  seemed  wonderful  how  such  a 
multitude  had  started  up  all  of  a  sudden. 

The  wrongs  and  insults  which  the  people  had  been  suf 
fering  for  many  months  now  kindled  them  into  a  rage. 
They  threw  snowballs  and  lumps  of  ice  at  the  soldiers. 
As  the  tumult  grew  louder  it  reached  the  ears  of  Cap 
tain  Preston,  the  officer  of  the  day.  He  immediately 
ordered  eight  soldiers  of  the  main  guard  to  take  their 
muskets  and  follow  him.  They  marched  across  the  street, 
forcing  their  way  roughly  through  the  crowd,  and  prick 
ing  the  townspeople  with  their  bayonets. 

A  gentleman  (it  was  Henry  Knox,  afterwards  general 
of  the  American  artillery)  caught  Captain  Preston's  arm. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  sir,"  exclaimed  he,  "  take  heed 
what  you  do,  or  there  will  be  bloodshed." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  169 

"  Stand  aside  !  "  answered  Captain  Preston,  haughtily. 
"  Do  not  interfere,  sir.  Leave  me  to  manage  the  affair." 

Arriving  at  the  sentinel's  post,  Captain  Preston  drew 
up  his  men  in  a  semicircle,  with  their  faces  to  the  crowd 
and  their  rear  to  the  Custom  House.  When  the  people 
saw  the  officer  and  beheld  the  threatening  attitude  with 
which  the  soldiers  fronted  them,  their  rage  became  almost 
uncontrollable. 

"  Eire,  you  lobsterbacks  ! "  bellowed  some. 

"  You  dare  not  fire,  you  cowardly  redcoats !  "  cried 
others. 

"Rush  upon  them!"  shouted  many  voices,  "Drive 
the  rascals  to  their  barracks  !  Down  with  them  !  Down 
with  them  !  Let  them  (ire  if  they  dare  !  " 

Amid  the  uproar,  the  soldiers  stood  glaring  at  the 
people  with  the  fierceness  of  men  whose  trade  was  to  shed 
blood. 

O,  what  a  crisis  had  now  arrived !  Up  to  this  very 
moment,  the  angry  feelings  between  England  and  Amer 
ica  might  have  been  pacified.  England  had  but  to  stretch 
out  the  hand  of  reconciliation,  and  acknowledge  that  shs 
had  hitherto  mistaken  her  rights,  but  would  do  so  no 
more.  Then  the  ancient  bonds  of  brotherhood  would 
again  have  been  knit  together  as  firmly  as  in  old  times. 
The  habit  of  loyalty,  which  had  grown  as  strong  as  in 
stinct,  was  not  utterly  overcome.  The  perils  shared, 
the  victories  won,  in  the  old  French  war,  when  the  sol 
diers  of  the  colonies  fought  side  by  side  with  their  com 
rades  from  beyond  the  sea,  were  unforgotten  yet.  Eng 
land  was  still  that  beloved  country  which  the  colonists 
called  their  home.  King  George,  though  he  had  frowned 
upon  America,  was  still  reverenced  as  a  father. 

But  should  the  king's  soldiers  shed  one  drop  of  Ameri 
can  blood,  then  it  was  a  quarrel  to  tli3  death.  Never, 
8 


170  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

never  would  America  rest  satisfied  until  she  had  torn 
down  the  royal  authority  and  trampled  it  in  the  dust. 

"Fire,  if  you  dare,  villains  !"  hoarsely  shouted  the 
people,  while  the  muzzles  of  the  muskets  were  turned 
upon  them.  "  You  dare  not  fire  !  " 

They  appeared  ready  to  rush  upon  the  levelled  bayo 
nets.  Captain  Preston  waved  his  sword,  and  uttered  a 
command  which  could  not  be  distinctly  heard  amid  the 
uproar  of  shouts  that  issued  from  a  hundred  throats. 
But  his  soldiers  deemed  that  he  had  spoken  the  fatal 
mandate,  "  Fire  !  "  The  (lash  of  their  muskets  lighted 
up  the  street,  and  the  report  rang  loudly  between  the 
edifices.  It  was  said,  too,  that  the  figure  of  a  man,  with 
a  cloth  hanging  down  over  his  face,  was  seen  to  step  into 
the  balcony  of  the  Custom  House  and  discharge  a  rnus- 
ket  at  the  crowd. 

A  gush  of  smoke  had  overspread  the  scene.  It  rose 
heavily,  as  if  it  were  loath  to  reveal  the  dreadful  specta 
cle  beneath  it.  Eleven  of  the  sons  of  New  England  lay 
stretched  upon  the  street.  Some,  sorely  wounded,  were 
struggling  to  rise  again.  Others  stirred  not  nor  groaned  ; 
for  they  were  past  all  pain.  Blood  was  streaming  upon 
the  snow ;  and  that  purple  stain  in  the  midst  of  King 
Street,  though  it  melted  away  in  the  next  day's  sun,  was 
never  forgotten  nor  forgiven  by  the  people. 

Grandfather  was  interrupted  by  the  violent  sobs  of 
little  Alice.  In  his  earnestness  he  had  neglected  to 
soften  down  the  narrative  so  that  it  might  not  terrify  the 
heart  of  this  unworldly  infant.  Since  Grandfather  began 
the  history  of  our  chair,  little  Alice  had  listened  to  many 
tales  of  war.  But  probably  the  idea  had  never  really 
impressed  itself  upon  her  mind  that  men  have  shed  the 
blood  of  their  fellow-creatures.  And  now  that  this  idea 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  171 

was  forcibly  presented  to  her,  it  affected  the  sweet  child 
with  bewilderment  and  horror. 

"I  ought  to  have  remembered  our  dear  little  Alice," 
said  Grandfather  reproachfully  to  himself.  "O,  what  a 
pity  !  Her  heavenly  nature  has  now  received  its  first 
impression  of  earthly  sin  and  violence.  Well,  Clara,  take 
her  to  bed  and  comfort  her.  Heaven  grant  that  she  may 
dream  away  the  recollection  of  the  Boston  massacre  !  " 

"  Grandfather,"  said  Charley,  when  Clara  and  little 
Alice  had  retired,  "  did  not  the  people  rush  upon  the 
soldiers  and  take  revenge?" 

"  The  town  drums  beat  to  arms,"  replied  Grandfather, 
"the  alarm-bells  rang,  and  an  immense  multitude  rushed 
into  King  Street.  Many  of  them  had  weapons  in  their 
hands.  The  British  prepared  to  defend  themselves.  A 
whole  regiment  was  drawn  up  in  the  street,  expecting  an 
attack ;  for  the  townsmen  appeared  ready  to  throw  them 
selves  upon  the  bayonets." 

"  And  how  did  it  end  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  Governor  Hutchinson  hurried  to  the  spot,"  said 
Grandfather,  "  and  besought  the  people  to  have  patience, 
promising  that  strict  justice  should  be  done.  A  day  or 
two  afterward  the  British  troops  were  withdrawn  from 
town  and  stationed  at  Castle  William.  Captain  Preston 
and  the  eight  soldiers  were  tried  for  murder.  But  noife 
of  them  were  found  guilty.  The  judges  told  the  jury 
that  the  insults  and  violence  which  had  been  offered  to 
the  soldiers  justified  them  in  firing  at  the  mob." 

"  The  Revolution,"  observed  Laurence,  who  had  said 
but  little  during  the  evening,  "  was  not  such  a  calm,  ma 
jestic  movement  as  I  supposed.  I  do  not  love  to  hear  of 
mobs  and  broils  in  the  street.  These  things  were  un 
worthy  of  the  people  when  they  had  such  a  great  object 
to  accomplish." 


172  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIU. 

, "~ 

"  Nevertheless,  the  world  has  seen  no  grander  move 
ment  than  that  of  our  Revolution  from  first  to  last,"  said 
Grandfather.  "  The  people,  to  a  man,  were  full  of  a  great 
and  noble  sentiment.  True,  there  may  be  much  fault  to 
find  with  their  mode  of  expressing  this  sentiment ;  but 
they  knew  no  better;  the  necessity  was  upon  them  to 
act  out  their  feelings  in  the  best  manner  they  could. 
We  must  forgive  what  was  wrong  in  their  actions,  and 
look  into  their  hearts  and  minds  for  the  honorable  mo 
tives  that  impelled  them." 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  Laurence,  "there  were  men 
who  knew  how  to  act  worthily  of  what  they  felt." 

"  There  were  many  such,"  replied  Grandfather;  "  and 
we  will  speak  of  some  of  them  hereafter." 

Grandfather  here  made  a  pause.  That  night  Charley 
had  a  dream  about  the  Boston  massacre,  and  thought 
that  he  himself  was  in  the  crowd  and  struck  down  Cap 
tain  Preston  with  a  great  club.  Laurence  dreamed  that 
he  was  sitting  in  our  great  chair,  at  the  window  of  the 
British  Coffee  House,  and  beheld  the  whole  scene  which 
Grandfather  had  described.  It  seemed  to  him,  in  his 
dream,  that,  if  the  townspeople  and  the  soldiers  would 
but  have  heard  him  speak  a  single  word,  all  the  slaugh 
ter  might  have  been  averted.  But  there  was  such  an 
ffproar  that  it  drowned  his  voice. 

The  next  morning  the  two  boys  went  together  to 
State  Street  and  stood  on  the  very  spot  where  the  first 
blood  of  the  Revolution  had  been  shed.  The  Old  State 
House  was  still  there,  presenting  almost  the  same  aspect 
that  it  had  worn  on  that  memorable  evening,  one-and- 
seventy  years  ago.  It  is  the  sole  remaining  witness  of 
the  Boston  massacre. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

|HE  next  evening  the  astral  lamp  was  lighted 
earlier  than  usual,  because  Laurence  was  very 

much  engaged  in  looking  over  the  collection  of 

portraits  which  had  been  his  New-Year's  gift  from 
Grandfather. 

Among  them  he  found  the  features  of  more  than  one 
famous  personage  who  had  been  connected  with  the 
adventures  of  our  old  chair.  Grandfather  bade  him 
draw  the  table  nearer  to  the  fireside  ;  and  they  looked 
over  the  portraits  together,  while  Clara  and  Charley 
likewise  lent  their  attention.  As  for  little  Alice,  she 
sat  in  Grandfather's  lap,  and  seemed  to  see  the  very 
men  alive  whose  faces  were  there  represented. 

Turning  over  the  volume,  Laurence  came  to  the  por 
trait  of  a  stern,  grim-looking  man,  in  plain  attire,  of 
much  more  modern  fashion  than  that  of  the  old  Puritans. 
But  the  face  might  well  have  befitted  one  of  those  iron- 
hearted  men.  Beneath  the  portrait  was  the  name  of 
Samuel  Adams. 

"  He  was  a  man  of  great  note  in  all  the  doings  that 
brought  about  the  Revolution,"  said  Grandfather.  "  His 
character  was  such,  that  it  seemed  as  if  one  of  the 
ancient  Puritans  had  been  sent  back  to  earth  to  ani 
mate  the  people's  hearts  with  the  same  abhorrence  of 


174  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

tyranny  that  had  distinguished  the  earliest  settlers.  He 
was  as  religious  as  they,  as  stern  and  inflexible,  and  as 
deeply  imbued  with  democratic  principles.  He,  better 
than  any  one  else,  may  be  taken  as  a  representative  of 
the  people  of  New  England,  and  of  the  spirit  with  which 
they  engaged  in  the  lievolutionary  struggle.  He  was  a 
poor  man,  and  earned  his  bread  by  a  humble  occupation ; 
but  with  his  tongue  and  pen  he  made  the  King  of 
England  tremble  on  his  throne.  Remember  him,  my 
children,  as  one  of  the  strong  men  of  our  country." 

"  Here  is  one  whose  looks  show  a  very  different  char 
acter,"  observed  Laurence,  turning  to  the  portrait  of 
John  Hancock.  "I  should  think,  by  his  splendid  dress 
and  courtly  aspect,  that  he  was  one  of  the  king's 
friends." 

"  There  never  was  a  greater  contrast  than  between 
Samuel  Adams  and  John  Hancock,"  said  Grandfather. 
"  Yet  they  were  of  the  same  side  in  politics,  and  had  an 
equal  agency  in  the  Revolution.  Hancock  was  born  to 
the  inheritance  of  the  largest  fortune  in  New  England. 
His  tastes  and  habits  were  aristocratic.  He  loved  gor 
geous  attire,  a  splendid  mansion,  magnificent  furniture, 
stately  festivals,  and  all  that  was  glittering  and  pompous 
in  external  things.  His  manners  were  so  polished  that 
there  stood  not  a  nobleman  at  the  footstool  of  King 
George's  throne  who  was  a  more  skilful  courtier  than 
John  Hancock  might  have  been.  Nevertheless,  he  in 
his  embroidered  clothes,  and  Samuel  Adams  in  his  thread 
bare  coat,  wrought  together  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 
Adams  acted  from  pure  and  rigid  principle.  Hancock, 
though  he  loved  his  country,  yet  thought  quite  as  much 
of  his  own  popularity  as  he  did  of  the  people's  rights. 
It  is  remarkable  that  these  two  men,  so  very  different  as 
I  describe  them,  were  the  only  two  exempted  from  par 
don  by  the  king's  proclamation." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  175 

On  the  next  leaf  of  the  book  was  the  portrait  of  Gen 
eral  Joseph  Warren.  Charley  recognized  the  name,  and 
said  that  here  was  a  greater  man  than  either  Hancock  or 
Adams. 

"  Warren  was  an  eloquent  and  able  patriot,"  replied 
Grandfather.  "  He  deserves  a  lasting  memory  for  his 
zealous  efforts  in  behalf  of  liberty.  No  man's  voice  was 
more  powerful  in  Faneuil  Hall  than  Joseph  Warren's.  If 
his  death  had  not  happened  so  early  in  the  contest,  he 
would  probably  have  gained  a  high  name  as  a  soldier." 

The  next  portrait  was  a  venerable  man,  who  held  his 
thumb  under  his  chin,  and,  through  his  spectacles,  ap 
peared  to  be  attentively  reading  a  manuscript. 

"  Here  we  see  the  most  illustrious  Boston  boy  that 
ever  lived,"  said  Grandfather.  "  This  is  Benjamin 
Franklin.  But  I  will  not  try  to  compress  into  a  few 
sentences  the  character  of  the  sage,  who,  as  a  Frenchman 
expressed  it,  snatched  the  lightning  from  the  sky  and 
the  sceptre  from  a  tyrant.  Mr.  Sparks  must  help  you  to 
the  knowledge  of  Franklin." 

The  book  likewise  contained  portraits  of  James  Otis 
and  Josiah  Quincy.  Both  of  them,  Grandfather  observed, 
were  men  of  wonderful  talents  and  true  patriotism.  Their 
voices  were  like  the  stirring  tones  of  a  trumpet  arousing 
the  country  to  defend  its  freedom.  Heaven  seemed  to 
have  provided  a  greater  number  of  eloquent  men  than 
had  appeared  at  any  other  period,  in  order  that  the  peo 
ple  might  be  fully  instructed  as  to  their  wrongs  and  the 
method  of  resistance. 

"It  is  marvellous,"  said  Grandfather,  "to  see  how 
many  powerful  writers,  orators,  and  soldiers  started  up 
just  at  the  time  when  they  were  wanted.  There  was  a 
man  for  every  kind  of  work.  It  is  equally  wonderful 
that  men  of  such  different  characters  were  all  made  to 


176  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

unite  in  the  one  object  of  establishing  the  freedom  and 
independence  of  America.  There  was  an  overruling 
Providence  above  them." 

"  Here  was  another  great  man,"  remarked  Laurence, 
pointing  to  the  portrait  of  John  Adams. 

"  Yes ;  an  earnest,  warm-tempered,  honest,  and  most 
able  man,"  said  Grandfather.  "At  the  period  of  which 
we  are  now  speaking  he  was  a  lawyer  in  Boston.  He 
was  destined  in  after  years  to  be  ruler  over  the  whole 
American  people,  whom  he  contributed  so  much  to  form 
into  a  nation." 

Grandfather  here  remarked  that  many  a  New-Eng- 
lander,  who  had  passed  his  boyhood  and  youth  in  obscuri 
ty,  afterward  attained  to  a  fortune  which  he  never  could 
have  foreseen  even  in  his  most  ambitious  dreams.  John 
Adams,  the  second  President  of  the  United  States  and 
the  equal  of  crowned  kings,  was  once  a  schoolmaster  and 
country  lawyer.  Hancock,  the  first  signer  of  the  Dec 
laration  of  Independence,  served  his  apprenticeship  witli 
a  merchant.  Samuel  Adams,  afterwards  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  was  a  small  tradesman  and  a  tax-gath 
erer.  General  Warren  was  a  physician,  General  Lincoln 
a  farmer,  and  General  Knox  a  bookbinder.  General 
Nathaniel  Greene,  the  best  soldier,  except  Washington, 
in  the  Revolutionary  army,  was  a  Quaker  and  a  black 
smith.  All  these  became  illustrious  men,  and  can  never 
be  forgotten  in  American  history. 

"  And  any  boy  who  is  born  in  America  may  look  for 
ward  to  the  same  things,"  said  our  ambitious  friend 
Charley. 

After  these  observations,  Grandfather  drew  the  book 
of  portraits  towards  him  and  showed  the  children  several 
British  peers  and  members  of  Parliament  who  had  exerted 
themselves  either  for  or  against  the  rights  of  America. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  177 

X"'  

There  were  the  Earl  of  Bute,  Mr.  Grenville,  and  Lord 
North.  These  were  looked  upon  as  deadly  enemies  to 
our  country. 

Among  the  friends  of  America  was  Mr.  Pitt,  afterward 
Earl  of  Chatham,  who  spent  so  much  of  his  wondrous 
eloquence  in  endeavoring  to  warn  England  of  the  conse 
quences  of  her  injustice.  He  fell  down  on  the  floor  of  the 
House  of  Lords  after  uttering  almost  his  dying  words  in 
defence  of  our  privileges  as  freemen.  There  was  Edmund 
Burke,  one  of  the  wisest  men  and  greatest  orators  that 
ever  the  world  produced.  There  was  Colonel  Barre, 
who  had  been  among  our  fathers,  and  knew  that  they  had 
courage  enough  to  die  for  their  rights.  There  was 
Charles  James  Eox,  who  never  rested  until  he  had 
silenced  our  enemies  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

"  It  is  very  remarkable  to  observe  how  many  of  the 
ablest  orators  in  the  British  Parliament  were  favorable 
to  America,"  said  Grandfather.  "We  ought  to  remem 
ber  these  great  Englishmen  with  gratitude ;  for  their 
speeches  encouraged  our  fathers  almost  as  much  as  those 
of  our  own  orators  in  Eaneuil  Hall  and  under  Liberty 
Tree.  Opinions  which  might  have  been  received  with 
doubt,  if  expressed  only  by  a  native  American,  were  set 
down  as  true,  beyond  dispute,  when  they  came  from  the 
lips  of  Chatham,  Burke,  Barre,  or  Fox." 

"But,  Grandfather,"  asked  Laurence,  "were  there  no 
able  and  eloquent  men  in  this  country  who  took  the  part 
of  King  George  ?  " 

"  There  were  many  men  of  talent  who  said  what  they 
could  in  defence  of  the  king's  tyrannical  proceedings," 
replied  Grandfather.  "  But  they  had  the  worst  side  of 
the  argument,  and  therefore  seldom  said  anything  worth 
remembering.  Moreover,  their  hearts  were  faint  and 
feeble ;  for  they  felt  that  the  people  scorned  and  detested 
8*  L 


178  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

them.  They  had  no  friends,  no  defence,  except  in  the 
bayonets  of  the  British  troops.  A  blight  fell  upon  all 
their  faculties,  because  they  were  contending  against  the 
rights  of  their  own  native  land." 

"  What  were  the  names  of  some  of  them  ?  "  inquired 
Charley. 

"  Governor  Hutchinson,  Chief  Justice  Oliver,  Judge 
Auchmuty,  the  Reverend  Mather  Byles,  and  several 
other  clergymen,  were  among  the  most  noted  loyalists," 
answered  Grandfather. 

"  I  wish  the  people  had  tarred  and  feathered  every 
man  of  them  ! "  cried  Charley. 

"  That  wish  is  very  wrong,  Charley,"  said  Grand 
father.  "  You  must  not  think  that  there  was  no  integ 
rity  and  honor  except  among  those  who  stood  up  for  the 
freedom  of  America.  Tor  aught  I  know,  there  was 
quite  as  much  of  these  qualities  on  one  side  as  on  the 
other.  Do  you  see  nothing  admirable  in  a  faithful  ad 
herence  to  an  unpopular  cause  ?  Can  you  not  respect 
that  principle  of  loyalty  which  made  the  royalists  give 
up  country,  friends,  fortune,  everything,  rather  than  be 
false  to  their  king  ?  It  was  a  mistaken  principle ;  but 
many  of  them  cherished  it  honorably,  and  were  martyrs 
to  it." 

"  O,  I  was  wrong ! "  said  Charley,  ingenuously. 
"And  I  would  risk  my  life  rather  than  one  of  those 
good  old  royalists  should  be  tarred  and  feathered." 

"  The  time  is  now  come  when  we  may  judge  fairly  of 
them,"  continued  Grandfather.  "Be  the  good  and  true 
men  among  them  honored  ;  for  they  were  as  much  our 
countrymen  as  the  patriots  were.  And,  thank  Heaven, 
our  country  need  not  be  ashamed  of  her  sons,  —  of  most 
of  them  at  least,  —  whatever  side  they  took  in  the  llev- 
olutionary  contest." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  179 

Among  the  portraits  was  one  of  King  George  III. 
Little  Alice  clapped  her  hands,  and  seemed  pleased  with 
the  bluff  good-nature  of  his  physiognomy.  But  Lau 
rence  thought  it  strange  that  a  man  with  such  a  face, 
indicating  hardly  a  common  share  of  intellect,  should 
have  had  influence  enough  on  human  affairs  to  convulse 
the  world  with  war.  Grandfather  observed  that  this 
poor  king  had  always  appeared  to  him  one  of  the  most 
unfortunate  persons  that  ever  lived.  He  was  so  honest 
and  conscientious,  that,  if  he  had  been  only  a  private 
man,  his  life  would  probably  have  been  blameless  and 
happy.  But  his  was  that  worst  of  fortunes,  —  to  be 
placed  in  a  station  far  beyond  his  abilities. 

"And  so,"  said  Grandfather,  "his  life,  while  he  re 
tained  what  intellect  Heaven  had  gifted  him  with,  was 
one  long  mortification.  At  last  he  grew  crazed  with  care 
and  trouble.  For  nearly  twenty  years  the  monarch  of 
England  was  confined  as  a  madman.  In  his  old  age, 
too,  God  took  away  his  eyesight ;  so  that  his  royal 
palace  was  nothing  to  him  but  a  dark,  lonesome  prison- 
house." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

UK,  old  chair,"  resumed  Grandfather,  "  did  not 
now  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  gay  circle  of  British 
officers.  The  troops,  as  I  told  you,  had  been 
removed  to  Castle  William  immediately  after  the  Boston 
massacre.  Still,  however,  there  were  many  tories,  cus 
tom-house  officers,  and  Englishmen  who  used  to  assem 
ble  in  the  British  Coffee  House  and  talk  over  the  affairs 
of  the  period.  Matters  grew  worse  and  worse  ;  and  in 
1773  the  people  did  a  deed  which  incensed  the  king  and 
ministry  more  than  any  of  their  former  doings." 

Grandfather  here  described  the  affair,  which  is  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Boston  Tea  Party.  The  Americans, 
for  some  time  past,  had  left  off  importing  tea,  on  account 
of  the  oppressive  tax.  The  East  India  Company,  in 
London,  had  a  large  stock  of  tea  on  hand,  which  they 
had  expected  to  sell  to  the  Americans,  but  could  find  no 
market  for  it.  But,  after  a  while,  the  government  per 
suaded  this  company  of  merchants  to  send  the  tea  to 
America. 

"  How  odd  it  is,"  observed  Clara,  "  that  the  liberties 
of  America  should  have  had  anything  to  do  with  a  cup 
of  tea ! " 

Grandfather  smiled,  and  proceeded  with  his  narrative. 
When  the  people  of  Boston  heard  that  several  cargoes  of 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  181 

tea  were  coming  across  the  Atlantic,  they  held  a  great 
many  meetings  at  Eaneuil  Hall,  in  the  Old  South  Church, 
and  under  Liberty  Tree.  In  the  midst  of  their  debates, 
three  ships  arrived  in  the  harbor  with  the  tea  on  board. 
The  people  spent  more  than  a  fortnight  in  consulting  what 
should  be  done.  At  last,  on  the  16th  of  December,  1773, 
they  demanded  of  Governor  Hutchinson  that  he  should 
immediately  send  the  ships  back  to  England. 

The  governor  replied  that  the  ships  must  not  leave 
the  harbor  until  the  custom-house  duties  upon  the  tea 
should  be  paid.  Now,  the  payment  of  these  duties  was 
the  very  thing  against  which  the  people  had  set  their 
faces  ;  because  it  was  a  tax  unjustly  imposed  upon  Amer 
ica  by  the  English  government.  Therefore,  in  the  dusk 
of  the  evening,  as  soon  as  Governor  Hutchinson's  reply 
was  received,  an  immense  crowd  hastened  to  Griffin's 
Wharf,  where  the  tea-ships  lay.  The  place  is  uow  called 
Liverpool  Wharf. 

"When  the  crowd  reached  the  wharf,"  said  Grand 
father,  "  they  saw  that  a  set  of  wild-looking  figures  were 
already  on  board  of  the  ships.  You  would  have  imagined 
that  the  Indian  warriors  of  old  times  had  come  back 
again ;  for  they  wore  the  Indian  dress,  and  had  their 
faces  covered  with  red  and  black  paint,  like  the  Indians 
when  they  go  to  war.  These  grim  figures  hoisted  the 
tea-chests  on  the  decks  of  the  vessels,  broke  them  open, 
and  threw  all  the  contents  into  the  harbor." 

"  Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  "  I  suppose  Indians 
don't  love  tea ;  else  they  would  never  waste  it  so." 

"They  were  not  real  Indians,  my  child,"  answered 
Grandfather.  "  They  were  white  men  in  disguise ;  be 
cause  a  heavy  punishment  would  have  been  inflicted  on 
them  if  the  king's  officers  had  found  who  they  were. 
But  it  was  never  known.  Erom  that  day  to  this,  though 


182  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

the  matter  lias  been  talked  of  by  all  the  world,  nobody 
can  tell  the  names  of  those  Indian  figures.  Some  people 
say  that  there  were  very  famous  men  among  them,  who 
afterwards  became  governors  and  generals.  Whether 
this  be  true,  I  cannot  tell." 

When  tidings  of  this  bold  deed  were  carried  to  Eng 
land,  King  George  was  greatly  enraged.  Parliament  im 
mediately  passed  an  act,  by  which  all  vessels  were  forbid 
den  to  take  in  or  discharge  their  cargoes  at  the  port  of 
Boston.  In  this  way  they  expected  to  ruin  all  the  mer 
chants,  and  starve  the  poor  people,  by  depriving  them  of 
employment.  At  the  same  time  another  act  was  passed, 
taking  away  many  rights  and  privileges  which  had  been 
granted  in  the  charter  of  Massachusetts. 

Governor  Hutchinson,  soon  afterward,  was  summoned 
to  England,  in  order  that  he  might  give  his  advice  about 
the  management  of  American  affairs.  General  Gage,  an 
officer  of  the  old  Erench  war,  and  since  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  British  forces  in  America,  was  appointed 
governor  in  his  stead.  One  of  his  first  acts  was  to 
make  Salem,  instead  of  Boston,  the  metropolis  of  Mas 
sachusetts,  by  summoning  the  General  Court  to  meet 
there. 

According  to  Grandfather's  description,  this  was  the 
most  gloomy  time  that  Massachusetts  had  ever  seen. 
The  people  groaned  under  as  heavy  a  tyranny  as  in  the 
days  of  Sir  Edmund  Audros.  Boston  looked  as  if  it 
were  afflicted  with  some  dreadful  pestilence,  —  so  sad 
were  the  inhabitants,  and  so  desolate  the  streets.  There 
was  no  cheerful  hum  of  business.  The  merchants  shut  up 
their  warehouses,  and  the  laboring  men  stood  idle  about 
the  wharves.  But  all  America  felt  interested  in  the  good 
town  of  Boston ;  and  contributions  were  raised,  in  many 
places,  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  inhabitants. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  183 

<e  Our  dear  old  chair !  "  exclaimed  Clara.  "  How  dis 
mal  it  must  have  been  now  !  " 

"0,"  replied  Grandfather,  "a  gay  throng  of  officers 
had  now  come  back  to  the  British  Coffee  House ;  so  that 
the  old  chair  had  no  lack  of  mirthful  company.  Soon 
after  General  Gage  became  governor  a  great  many  troops 
had  arrived,  and  were  encamped  upon  the  Common. 
Boston  was  now  a  garrisoned  and  fortified  town  ;  for  the 
general  had  built  a  battery  across  the  Neck,  on  the  road 
to  Roxbury,  and  placed  guards  for  its  defence.  Every 
thing  looked  as  if  a  civil  war  were  close  at  hand." 

"  Did  the  people  make  ready  to  fight  ?  "  asked  Char 
ley. 

"A  Continental  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia," 
said  Grandfather,  "  and  proposed  such  measures  as  they 
thought  most  conducive  to  the  public  good.  A  Provin 
cial  Congress  was  likewise  chosen  in  Massachusetts. 
They  exhorted  the  people  to  arm  and  discipline  them 
selves.  A  great  number  of  minute-men  were  enrolled. 
The  Americans  called  them  minute-men,  because  they 
engaged  to  be  ready  to  fight  at  a  minute's  warning.  The 
English  officers  laughed,  and  said  that  the  name  was  a 
very  proper  one,  because  the  minute-men  would  run  away 
the  minute  they  saw  the  enemy.  Whether  they  would 
fight  or  run  was  soon  to  be  proved." 

Grandfather  told  the  children  that  the  first  open  resist 
ance  offered  to  the  British  troops,  in  the  province  of 
Massachusetts,  was  at  Salem.  Colonel  Timothy  Picker 
ing,  with  thirty  or  forty  militia-men,  prevented  the  Eng 
lish  colonel,  Leslie,  with  four  times  as  many  regular 
soldiers,  from  taking  possession  of  some  military  stores. 
No  blood  was  shed  on  this  occasion ;  but  soon  after 
ward  it  began  to  flow. 
--  General  Gage  sent  eight  hundred  soldiers  to  Concord, 


184  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

about  eighteen  miles  from  Boston,  to  destroy  some  am 
munition  and  provisions  which  the  colonists  had  collected 
there.  They  set  out  on  their  march  in  the  evening  of 
the  18th  of  April,  1775.  The  next  morning,  the  general 
sent  Lord  Percy  with  nine  hundred  men  to  strengthen 
the  troops  that  had  gone  before.  All  that  day  the  inhab 
itants  of  Boston  heard  various  rumors.  Some  said  that 
the  British  were  making  great  slaughter  among  our  coun 
trymen.  Others  affirmed  that  every  man  had  turned  out 
with  his  musket,  and  that  not  a  single  soldier  would  ever 
get  back  to  Boston. 

"  It  was  after  sunset,"  continued  Grandfather,  "  when 
the  troops,  who  had  inarched  forth  so  proudly,  were  seen 
entering  Charlestown.  They  were  covered  with  dust, 
and  so  hot  and  weary  that  their  tongues  hung  out  of  their 
mouths.  Many  of  them  were  faint  with  wounds.  They 
had  not  all  returned.  Nearly  three  hundred  were  strown, 
dead  or  dying,  along  the  road  from  Concord.  The  yeo 
manry  had  risen  upon  the  invaders  and  driven  them  back." 

"  Was  this  the  battle  of  Lexington  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"Yes,"  replied  Grandfather;  "it  was  so  called,  be 
cause  the  British,  without  provocation,  had  fired  upon 
a  party  of  minute-men,  near  Lexington  meeting-house, 
and  killed  eight  of  them.  That  fatal  volley,  which  was 
fired  by  order  of  Major  Pitcairn,  began  the  war  of  the 
Revolution." 

About  this  time,  if  Grandfather  had  been  correctly  in 
formed,  our  chair  disappeared  from  the  British  Coffee 
House.  The  manner  of  its  departure  cannot  be  satisfac 
torily  ascertained.  Perhaps  the  keeper  of  the  Coffee 
House  turned  it  out  of  doors  on  account  of  its  old-fash 
ioned  aspect.  Perhaps  he  sold  it  as  a  curiosity.  Per 
haps  it  was  taken,  without  leave,  by  some  person  who 
regarded  it  as  public  property  because  it  had  once  figured 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  185 

under  Liberty  Tree.  Or  perhaps  the  old  chair,  being  of 
a  peaceable  disposition,  had  made  use  of  its  four  oaken 
legs  and  run  away  from  the  seat  of  war. 

"  It  would  have  made  a  terrible  clattering  over  the 
pavement,"  said  Charley,  laughing. 

"  Meanwhile/'  continued  Grandfather,  "  during  the 
mysterious  non-appearance  of  our  chair,  an  army  of 
twenty  thousand  men  had  started  up  and  come  to  the 
siege  of  Boston.  General  Gage  and  his  troops  were 
cooped  up  within  the  narrow  precincts  of  the  peninsula. 
On  the  17th  of  June,  1775,  the  famous  battle  of  Bunker 
Hill  was  fought.  Here  General  Warren  fell.  The  Brit 
ish  got  the  victory,  indeed,  but  with  the  loss  of  more 
than  a  thousand  officers  and  men." 

"0  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  "you  must  tell  us 
about  that  famous  battle." 

"No,  Charley,"  said  Grandfather,  "I  am  not  like 
other  historians.  Battles  shall  not  hold  a  prominent 
place  in  the  history  of  our  quiet  and  comfortable  old 
chair.  But  to-morrow  evening,  Laurence,  Clara,  and 
yourself,  and  dear  little  Alice  too,  shall  visit  the  Diorama 
of  Bunker  Hill.  There  you  shall  see  the  whole  business, 
the  burning  of  Charlestown  and  all,  with  your  own  eyes, 
and  hear  the  cannon  and  musketry  with  your  own  ears." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

HE  next  evening  but  one,  when  the  children  had 
given  Grandfather  a  lull  account  of  the  Diorama 
of  Bunker  Hill,  they  entreated  him  not  to  keep 
them  any  longer  in  suspense  about  the  fate  of  his  chair. 
The  reader  will  recollect  that,  at  the  last  accounts,  it  had 
trotted  away  upon  its  poor  old  legs  nobody  knew  whith 
er.  But,  before  gratifying  their  curiosity,  Grandfather 
found  it  necessary  to  say  something  about  public  events. 

The  Continental  Congress,  which  was  assembled  at 
Philadelphia,  was  composed  of  delegates  from  all  the 
colonies.  They  had  now  appointed  George  Washington, 
of  Virginia,  to  be  commander-iu-chief  of  all  the  American 
armies.  He  was,  at  that  time,  a  member  of  Congress  ; 
but  immediately  left  Philadelphia,  and  began  his  journey 
to  Massachusetts.  On  the  3d  of  July,  1775,  he  arrived 
at  Cambridge,  and  took  command  of  the  troops  which 
were  besieging  General  Gage. 

"O  Grandfather,"  exclaimed  Laurence,  "it  makes  my 
heart  throb  to  think  what  is  coming  now.  We  are  to 
see  General  Washington  himself." 

The  children  crowded  around  Grandfather  and  looked 
earnestly  into  his  face.  Even  little  Alice  opened  her 
sweet  blue  eyes,  with  her  lips  apart,  and  almost  held  her 
breath  to  listen ;  so  instinctive  is  the  reverence  of  child- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  187 

liood  for  the  father  of  his  country.  Grandfather  paused 
a  moment ;  for  he  felt  as  if  it  might  be  irreverent  to  in 
troduce  the  hallowed  shade  of  Washington  into  a  history 
where  an  ancient  elbow-chair  occupied  the  most  promi 
nent  place.  However,  he  determined  to  proceed  with  his 
narrative,  and  speak  of  the  hero  when  it  was  needful,  but 
with  an  unambitious  simplicity. 

So  Grandfather  told  his  auditors,  that,  on  General 
Washington's  arrival  at  Cambridge,  his  first  care  was  to 
reconnoitre  the  British  troops  with  his  spyglass,  and  to 
examine  the  condition  of  his  own  army.  He  found  that 
the  American  troops  amounted  to  about  fourteen  thou 
sand  men.  They  were  extended  all  round  the  peninsula 
of  Boston,  a  space  of  twelve  miles,  from  the  high  grounds 
of  Hoxbury  on  the  right  to  Mystic  River  on  the  left. 
Some  were  living  in  tents  of  sail-cloth,  some  in  shanties 
rudely  constructed  of  boards,  some  in  huts  of  stone  or 
turf  with  curious  windows  and  doors  of  basket-work. 

In  order  to  be  near  the  centre  and  oversee  the  whole 
of  this  wide-stretched  army,  the  commander-in-chief  made 
his  headquarters  at  Cambridge,  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  colleges.  A  mansion-house,  which  perhaps  had  been 
the  country  seat  of  some  tory  gentleman,  was  provided 
for  his  residence. 

"  When  General  Washington  first  entered  this  man 
sion,"  said  Grandfather,  "  he  was  ushered  up  the  staircase 
and  shown  into  a  handsome  apartment.  He  sat  down  in 
a  large  chair,  which  was  the  most  conspicuous  object  in. 
the  room.  The  noble  figure  of  Washington  would  have 
done  honor  to  a  throne.  As  he  sat  there,  with  his  hand 
resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  sheathed  sword,  which  was  placed 
between  his  knees,  his  whole  aspect  well  befitted  the 
chosen  man  on  whom  his  country  leaned  for  the  defence 
of  her  dearest  rights.  America  seemed  safe  under  his 


188  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR,. 


protection.  His  face  was  grander  than  any  sculptor  had 
ever  wrought  in  marble ;  none  could  behold  him  without 
awe  and  reverence.  Never  before  had  the  lion's  head  at 
the  summit  of  the  chair  looked  down  upon  such  a  face 
and  form  as  Washington's." 

"  Why,  Grandfather  !  "  cried  Clara,  clasping  her  hands 
in  amazement,  "  was  it  really  so  ?  Did  General  Wash 
ington  sit  in  our  great  chair  ?  " 

"  I  knew  how  it  would  be,"  said  Laurence  ;  "  I  fore 
saw  it  the  moment  Grandfather  began  to  speak." 

Grandfather  smiled.  But,  turning  from  the  personal 
and  domestic  life  of  the  illustrious  leader,  he  spoke  of  the 
methods  which  Washington  adopted  to  win  back  the 
metropolis  of  New  England  from  the  British. 

The  army,  when  he  took  command  of  it,  was  without 
any  discipline  or  order.  The  privates  considered  them 
selves  as  good  as  their  officers  ;  and  seldom  thought  it 
necessary  to  obey  their  commands,  unless  they  under 
stood  the  why  and  wherefore.  Moreover,  they  were  en 
listed  for  so  short  a  period,  that,  as  soon  as  they  began 
to  be  respectable  soldiers,  it  was  time  to  discharge  them. 
Then  came  new  recruits,  who  had  to  be  taught  their  duty 
before  they  could  be  of  any  service.  Such  was  the  army 
with  which  Washington  had  to  contend  against  more 
than  twenty  veteran  British  regiments. 

Some  of  the  men  had  no  muskets,  and  almost  all  were 
without  bayonets.  Heavy  cannon,  for  battering  the 
British  fortifications,  were  much  wanted.  There  was  but 
a  small  quantity  of  powder  and  ball,  few  tools  to  build 
intrenchments  with,  and  a  great  deficiency  of  provisions 
and  clothes  for  the  soldiers.  Yet,  in  spite  of  these  per 
plexing  difficulties,  the  eyes  of  the  whole  people  were 
fixed  on  General  Washington,  expecting  him  to  under 
take  some  great  enterprise  against  the  hostile  army. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  189 

The  first  thing  that  lie  found  necessary  was,  to  bring 
his  own  men  into  better  order  and  discipline.  It  is  won 
derful  how  soon  he  transformed  this  rough  mob  of  coun 
try  people  into  the  semblance  of  a  regular  army.  One 
of  Washington's  most  invaluable  characteristics  was,  the 
faculty  of  bringing  order  out  of  confusion.  All  business 
with  which  he  had  any  concern  seemed  to  regulate  itself 
as  if  by  magic.  The  influence  of  his  mind  was  like  light 
gleaming  through  an  unshaped  world.  It  was  this  fac 
ulty,  more  than  any  other,  that  made  him  so  fit  to  ride 
upon  the  storm  of  the  Revolution  when  everything  was 
unfixed  and  drifting  about  in  a  troubled  sea. 

"Washington  had  not  been  long  at  the  head  of  the 
army,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "  before  his  soldiers 
thought  as  highly  of  him  as  if  he  had  led  them  to  a  hun 
dred  victories.  They  knew  that  he  was  the  very  man 
whom  the  country  needed,  and  the  only  one  who  could 
bring  them  safely  through  the  great  contest  against  the 
might  of  England.  They  put  entire  confidence  in  his 
courage,  wisdom,  and  integrity/3 

"  And  were  they  not  eager  to  follow  him  against  the 
British  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  Doubtless  they  would  have  gone  whithersoever  his 
sword  pointed  the  way/'  answered  Grandfather ;  "  and 
Washington  was  anxious  to  make  a  decisive  assault  upon 
the  enemy.  But  as  the  enterprise  was  very  hazardous, 
he  called  a  council  of  all  the  generals  in  the  army.  Ac 
cordingly  they  came  from  their  different  posts,  and  were 
ushered  into  the  reception-room.  The  Commander-in- 
chief  arose  from  our  great  chair  to  greet  them." 

"  What  were  their  names  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

"  There  was  General  Artemus  Ward,"  replied  Grand 
father,  "a  lawyer  by  profession.  He  had  commanded 
the  troops  before  Washington's  arrival.  Another  was 


190  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

General  Charles  Lee,  who  had  been  a  colonel  in  the  Eng 
lish  army,  and  was  thought  to  possess  vast  military  sci 
ence.  He  came  to  the  council,  followed  by  two  or  three 
dogs  which  were  always  at  his  heels.  There  was  General 
Putnam,  too,  who  was  known  all  over  New  England  by 
the  name  of  Old  Put." 

"  Was  it  he  who  killed  the  wolf  ?  "  inquired  Char 
ley. 

"  The  same,"  said  Grandfather ;  "  and  he  had  done 
good  service  in  the  old  French  war.  His  occupation 
was  that  of  a  farmer ;  but  lie  left  his  plough  in  the  fur 
row  at  the  news  of  Lexington  battle.  Then  there  was 
General  Gates,  who  afterward  gained  great,  renown  at 
Saratoga,  and  lost  it  again  at  Camden.  General  Greene, 
of  Rhode  Island,  was  likewise  at  the  council.  Washing 
ton  soon  discovered  him  to  be  one  of  the  best  officers  in 
the  army." 

When  the  generals  were  all  assembled,  Washington  con 
sulted  them  about  a  plan  for  storming  the  English  batter 
ies.  But  it  was  their  unanimous  opinion  that  so  perilous 
an  enterprise  ought  not  to  be  attempted.  The  army, 
therefore,  continued  to  besiege  Boston,  preventing  the 
enemy  from  obtaining  supplies  of  provisions,  but  without 
taking  any  immediate  measures  to  get  possession  of  the 
town.  In  this  manner  the  summer,  autumn,  and  winter 
passed  away. 

"  Many  a  night,  doubtless,"  said  Grandfather,  "  after 
Washington  had  been  all  day  on  horseback,  galloping 
from  one  post  of  the  army  to  another,  he  used  to  sit  in 
our  great  chair,  rapt  in  earnest  thought.  Had  you  seen 
him,  you  might  have  supposed  that  his  whole  mind  was 
fixed  on  the  blue  china  tiles  which  adorned  the  old-fash 
ioned  fireplace.  But,  in  reality,  he  was  meditating  how 
to  capture  the  British  army,  or  drive  it  out  of  Boston. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  191 

Once,  when  there  was  a  hard  frost,  he  formed  a  scheme 
to  cross  the  Charles  River  on  the  ice.  But  the  other 
generals  could  not  be  persuaded  that  there  was  any  pros 
pect  of  success." 

"  What  were  the  British  doing  all  this  time  ? "  in 
quired  Charley. 

"  They  lay  idle  in  the  town,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"  General  Gage  had  been  recalled  to  England,  and  was 
succeeded  by  Sir  William  Howe.  The  British  army  and 
the  inhabitants  of  Boston  were  now  in  great  distress. 
Being  shut  up  in  the  town  so  long,  they  had  consumed 
almost  all  their  provisions  and  burned  up  all  their  fuel. 
The  soldiers  tore  down  the  Old  North  Church,  and  used 
its  rotten  boards  and  timbers  for  firewood.  To  heighten 
their  distress,  the  small-pox  broke  out.  They  probably 
lost  far  more  men  by  cold,  hunger,  and  sickness  than  had 
been  slain  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill." 

"  What  a  dismal  time  for  the  poor  women  and  chil 
dren  !  "  exclaimed  Clara. 

"At  length,"  continued  Grandfather,  "in  March, 
1776,  General  Washington,  who  had  now  a  good  supply 
of  powder,  began  a  terrible  cannonade  and  bombardment 
from  Dorchester  Heights.  One  of  the  cannon-balls  which 
he  fired  into  the  town  struck  the  tower  of  the  Brattle 
Street  Church,  where  it  may  still  be  seen.  Sir  William 
Howe  made  preparations  to  cross  over  in  boats  and  drive 
the  Americans  from  their  batteries,  but  was  prevented  by 
a  violent  gale  and  storm.  General  Washington  next 
erected  a  battery  on  Nook's  Hill,  so  near  the  enemy  that 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  remain  in  Boston  any 
longer." 

"  Hurrah  !  Hurrah !  "  cried  Charley,  clapping  his 
hands  triumphantly.  "  I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  see 
how  sheepish  the  Englishmen  looked." 


192 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 


And  as  Grandfather  thought  that  Boston  had  never 
witnessed  a  more  interesting  period  than  this,  when  the 
royal  power  was  in  its  death  agony,  he  determined  to 
take  a  peep  into  the  town  and  imagine  the  feelings  of 
those  who  were  quitting  it  forever. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

LAS  for  the  poor  tories !  "  said  Grandfather. 
"  Until  the  very  last  morning  after  Washing- 

ton's  troops  had  shown  themselves  on  Nook's 

Hill,  these  unfortunate  persons  could  not  believe  that  the 
audacious  rebels,  as  they  called  the  Americans,  would 
ever  prevail  against  King  George's  army.  But  when 
they  saw  the  British  soldiers  preparing  to  embark  on 
board  of  the  ships  of  war,  then  they  knew  that  they  had 
lost  their  country.  Could  the  patriots  have  known  how 
bitter  were  their  regrets,  they  would  have  forgiven  them 
all  their  evil  deeds,  and  sent  a  blessing  after  them  as 
they  sailed  away  from  their  native  shore." 

In  order  to  make  the  children  sensible  of  the  pitiable 
condition  of  these  men,  Grandfather  singled  out  Peter 
Oliver,  chief  justice  of  Massachusetts  under  the  crown, 
and  imagined  him  walking  through  the  streets  of  Boston 
on  the  morning  before  he  left  it  forever. 

This  effort  of  Grandfather's  fancy  may  be  called 

THE  TORY'S  FAREWELL. 

Old  Chief  Justice  Oliver  threw  on  his  red  cloak,  and 
placed  his  three-cornered  hat  on  the  top  of  his  white 
wig,  In.  this  garb  lie  intended  to  go  forth  and  take  a 

9  M 


194  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

parting  look  at  objects  that  had  been  familiar  to  him 
from  his  youth.  Accordingly,  he  began  his  walk  in  the 
north  part  of  the  town,  and  soon  came  to  Faneuil  Hall. 
This  edifice,  the  cradle  of  liberty,  had  been  used  by  the 
British  officers  as  a  playhouse. 

"  Would  that  I  could  see  its  walls  crumble  to  dust !  " 
thought  the  chief  justice ;  and,  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
heart,  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  famous  hall.  "  There 
began  the  mischief  which  now  threatens  to  rend  asunder 
the  British  empire.  The  seditious  harangues  of  dema 
gogues  in  Eaneuil  Hall  have  made  rebels  of  a  loyal 
people  and  deprived  me  of  my  country." 

He  then  passed  through  a  narrow  avenue  and  found 
himself  in  King  Street,  almost  on  the  very  spot  which, 
six  years  before,  had  been  reddened  by  the  blood  of  the 
Boston  massacre.  The  chief  justice  stepped  cautiously, 
and  shuddered,  as  if  he  were  afraid  that,  even  now,  the 
gore  of  his  slaughtered  countrymen  might  stain  his 
feet. 

Before  him  rose  the  Town  House,  on  the  front  of 
which  were  still  displayed  the  royal  arms.  Within  that 
edifice  he  had  dispensed  justice  to  the  people  in  the 
days  when  his  name  was  never  mentioned  without  honor. 
There,  too,  was  the  balcony  whence  the  trumpet  had 
been  sounded  and  the  proclamation  read  to  an  assem 
bled  multitude,  whenever  a  new  king  of  England  as 
cended  the  throne. 

"  I  remember  —  I  remember,"  said  Chief  Justice 
Oliver  to  himself,  "  when  his  present  most  sacred  Maj 
esty  was  proclaimed.  Then  how  the  people  shouted  ! 
Each  man  would  have  poured  out  his  life-blood  to  keep 
a  hair  of  King  George's  head  from  harm.  But  now 
there  is  scarcely  a  tongue  in  all  New  England  that  does 
iiot  imprecate  curses  on  his  name.  It  is  ruin  and  dis- 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  195 

grace  to  love  him.  Can  it  be  possible  that  a  few  fleeting 
years  have  wrought  such  a  change  ?  " 

It  did  not  occur  to  the  chief  justice  that  nothing  but 
the  most  grievous  tyranny  could  so  soon  have  changed 
the  people's  hearts.  Hurrying  from  the  spot,  he  entered 
Cornhill,  as  the  lower  part  of  Washington  Street  was 
then  called.  Opposite  to  the  Town  House  was  the 
waste  foundation  of  the  Old  North  Church.  The  sacri 
legious  hands  of  the  British  soldiers  had  torn  it  down, 
and  kindled  their  barrack  fires  with  the  fragments. 

Farther  on  he  passed  beneath  the  tower  of  the  Old 
South,  The  threshold  of  this  sacred  edifice  was  worn 
by  the  iron  tramp  of  horses'  feet ;  for  the  interior  had 
been  used  as  a  riding-school  and  rendezvous  for  a  regi 
ment  of  dragoons.  As  the  chief  justice  lingered  an 
instant  at  the  door  a  trumpet  sounded  within,  and  the 
regiment  came  clattering  forth  and  galloped  down  the 
street.  They  were  proceeding  to  the  place  of  embar 
kation. 

"Let  them  go  !  "  thought  the  chief  justice,  with  some 
what  of  an  old  Puritan  feeling  in  his  breast.  "  No  good 
can  come  of  men  who  desecrate  the  house  of  God." 

He  went  on  a  few  steps  farther,  and  paused  before  the 
Province  House.  No  range  of  brick  stores  had  then 
sprung  up  to  hide  the  mansion  of  the  royal  governors 
from  public  view.  It  had  a  spacious  court-yard,  bor 
dered  with  trees,  and  enclosed  with  a  wrought-iron  fence. 
On  the  cupola  that  surmounted  the  edifice  was  the  gilded 
figure  of  an  Indian  chief,  ready  to  let  fly  an  arrow  from 
his  bow.  Over  the  wide  front  door  was  a  balcony,  in 
which  the  chief  justice  had  often  stood  when  the  gov 
ernor  and  high  officers  of  the  province  showed  themselves 
to  the  people. 

While  Chief  Justice  Oliver  gazed  sadly  at  the  Prov- 


196  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

ince  House,  before  which  a  sentinel  was  pacing,  the 
double  leaves  of  the  door  were  thrown  open,  and  Sir 
William  Howe  made  his  appearance.  Behind  him  came 
a  throng  of  officers,  whose  steel  scabbards  clattered 
against  the  stones  as  they  hastened  down  the  court-yard. 
Sir  William  Howe  was  a  dark-complexioned  man,  stern 
and  haughty  in  his  deportment.  He  stepped  as  proudly 
in  that  hour  of  defeat,  as  if  he  were  going  to  receive  the 
submission  of  the  rebel  general. 

The  chief  justice  bowed  and  accosted  him. 

"  This  is  a  grievous  hour  for  both  of  us,  Sir  William/' 
said  he. 

"  Forward !  gentlemen,"  said  Sir  William  Howe  to 
the  officers  who  attended  him ;  "  we  have  no  time  to 
hear  lamentations  now." 

And,  coldly  bowing,  he  departed.  Thus  the  chief 
justice  had  a  foretaste  of  the  mortifications  which  the 
exiled  New-Englanders  afterwards  suffered  from  the 
haughty  Britons.  They  were  despised  even  by  that 
country  which  they  had  served  more  faithfully  than  their 
own. 

A  still  heavier  trial  awaited  Chief  Justice  Oliver,  as 
he  passed  onward  from  the  Province  House.  He  was 
recognized  by  the  people  in  the  street.  They  had  long 
known  him  as  the  descendant  of  an  ancient  and  honora 
ble  family.  They  had  seen  him  sitting  in  his  scarlet 
robes  upon  the  judgment-seat.  All  his  life  long,  either 
for  the  sake  of  his  ancestors  or  on  account  of  his  own 
dignified  station  and  unspotted  character,  he  had  been 
held  in  high  respect.  The  old  gentry  of  the  province 
were  looked  upon  almost  as  noblemen  while  Massachu 
setts  was  under  royal  government. 

But  now  all  hereditary  reverence  for  birth  and  rank 
was  gone.  The  inhabitants  shouted  in  derision  when 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  197 

they  saw  the  venerable  form  of  the  old  chief  justice. 
They  laid  the  wrongs  of  the.country  and  their  own  suf 
ferings  during  the  siege  —  their  hunger,  cold,  and  sick 
ness  —  partly  to  his  charge  and  to  that  of  his  brother 
Andrew  and  his  kinsman  Hutchinson.  It  was  by  their 
advice  that  the  king  had  acted  in  all  the  colonial  troubles. 
But  the  day  of  recompense  was  come. 

"  See  the  old  tory ! "  cried  the  people,  with  bitter 
laughter.  "  He  is  taking  his  last  look  at  us.  Let  him 
show  his  white  wig  among  us  an  hour  hence,  and  we  '11 
give  him  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers  !" 

The  chief  justice,  however,  knew  that  he  need  fear  no 
violence  so  long  as  the  British  troops  were  in  possession 
of  the  town.  But,  alas  !  it  was  a  bitter  thought  that  he 
should  leave  no  loving  memory  behind  him.  His  fore 
fathers,  long  after  their  spirits  left  the  earth,  had  been 
honored  in  the  affectionate  remembrance  of  the  people. 
*But  he,  who  would  henceforth  be  dead  to  his  native 
land,  would  have  no  epitaph  save  scornful  and  vindictive 
words.  The  old  man  wept. 

"  They  curse  me,  they  invoke  all  kinds  of  evil  on  my 
head  !  "  thought  he,  in  the  midst  of  his  tears.  "  But,  if 
they  could  read  my  heart,  they  would  know  that  I  love 
New  England  well.  Heaven  bless  her,  and  bring  her 
again  under  the  rule  of  our  gracious  king !  A  blessing, 
too,  on  these  poor,  misguided  people !  " 

The  chief  justice  flung  out  his  hands  with  a  gesture,  as 
if  he  were  bestowing  a  parting  benediction  on  his  coun 
trymen.  He  had  now  reached  the  southern  portion  of 
the  town,  and  was  far  within  the  range  of  cannon-shot 
from  the  American  batteries.  Close  beside  him  was  the 
broad  st^ump  of  a  tree,  which  appeared  to  have  been  re 
cently  cut  down.  Being  weary  and  heavy  at  heart,  he 
was  about  to  sit  down  upon  the  stump. 


198  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Suddenly  it  flashed  upon  his  recollection  that  this  was 
the  stump  of  Liberty  Tree  !  The  British  soldiers  had 
cut  it  down,  vainly  boasting  that  they  could  as  easily 
overthrow  the  liberties  of  America.  Under  its  shadowy 
branches,  ten  years  before,  the  brother  of  Chief  Justice 
Oliver  had  been  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  suprem 
acy  of  the  people  by  taking  the  oath  which  they  pre 
scribed.  This  tree  was  connected  with  all  the  events 
that  had  severed  America  from  England. 

"Accursed  tree  !  "  cried  the  chief  justice,  gnashing  his 
teeth  ;  for  anger  overcame  his  sorrow.  "  Would  that 
thou  hadst  been  left  standing  till  Hancock,  Adams,  and 
every  other  traitor  were  hanged  upon  thy  branches! 
Then  fitly  mightest  thou  have  been  hewn  down  and  cast 
into  the  flames." 

He  turned  back,  hurried  to  Long  Wharf  without  look 
ing  behind  him,  embarked  with  the  British  troops  for 
Halifax,  and  never  saw  his  country  more.  Throughout 
the  remainder  of  his  days  Chief  Justice  Oliver  was  agi 
tated  with  those  same  conflicting  emotions  that  had  tor- 
lured  him  while  taking  his  farewell  walk  through  the 
streets  of  Boston.  Deep  love  and  fierce  resentment 
burned  in  one  flame  within  his  breast.  Anathemas  strug 
gled  with  benedictions.  He  felt  as  if  one  breath  of  his 
native  air  would  renew  his  life,  yet  would  have  died  rather 
than  breathe  the  same  air  with  rebels.  And  such  likewise 
were  the  feelings  of  the  other  exiles,  a  thousand  in  num 
ber,  who  departed  with  the  British  army.  Were  they 
not  the  most  unfortunate  of  men? 

"The  misfortunes  of  those  exiled  tories,"  observed 
Laurence,  "  must  have  made  them  think  of  the  poor  ex 
iles  of  Acadia." 

"They  had  a  sad  time  of  it,  I  suppose,"  said  Charley. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  199 

"  But  I  choose  to  rejoice  with  the  patriots,  rather  than 
be  sorrowful  with  the  tories.  Grandfather,  what  did  Gen 
eral  Washington  do  now  ?  " 

"As  the  rear  of  the  British  army  embarked  from  the 
wharf,"  replied  Grandfather,  "  General  Washington's 
troops  marched  over  the  Neck,  through  the  fortification 
gates,  and  entered  Boston  in  triumph.  And  now,  for 
the  first  time  since  the  Pilgrims  landed,  Massachusetts 
was  free  from  the  dominion  of  England.  May  she  never 
again  be  subjected  to  foreign  rule, —  never  again  feel  the 
rod  of  oppression  !  " 

"  Dear  Grandfather,"  asked  little  Alice,  "  did  General 
Washington  bring  our  chair  back  to  Boston  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  how  long  the  chair  remained  at  Cam 
bridge,"  said  Grandfather.  "  Had  it  stayed  there  till  this 
time,  it  could  not  have  found  a  better  or  more  appropri 
ate  shelter.  The  mansion  which  General  Washington 
occupied  is  still  standing,  and  his  apartments  have  since 
been  tenanted  by  several  eminent  men.  Governor  Ever 
ett,  while  a  professor  in  the  University,  resided  there. 
So  at  an  after  period  did  Mr.  Sparks,  whose  invaluable 
labors  have  connected  his  name  with  the  immortality  of 
Washington.  And  at  this  very  time  a  venerable  friend 
and  contemporary  of  your  Grandfather,  after  long  pilgrim 
ages  beyond  the  sea,  has  set  up  his  staff  of  rest  at  Wash 
ington's  headquarters." 

"  You  mean  Professor  Longfellow,  Grandfather,"  said 
Laurence.  "0,  how  I  should  love  to  see  the  author  of 
those  beautiful  VOICES  OF  THE  NIGHT  !  " 

"  We  will  visit  him  next  summer,"  answered  Grand 
father,  "  and  take  Clara  and  little  Alice  with  us,  —  and 
Charley,  too,  if  he  will  be  quiet." 


CHAPTER   X. 

JHEN  Grandfather  resumed  his  narrative  the 
next  evening,  he  told  the  children  that  he  had 
some  difficulty  in  tracing  the  movements  of  the 
chair  during  a  short  period  after  General  Washington's 
departure  from  Cambridge. 

Within  a  few  months,  however,  it  made  its  appearance 
at  a  shop  in  Boston,  before  the  door  of  which  was  seen 
a  striped  pole.  In  the  interior  was  displayed  a  stuffed 
alligator,  a  rattlesnake's  skin,  a  bundle  of  Indian  arrows, 
an  old-fashioned  matchlock  gun,  a  walking-stick  of  Gov 
ernor  Winthrop's,  a  wig  of  old  Cotton  Mather's,  and  a 
colored  print  of  the  Boston  massacre.  In  short,  it  was 
a  barber's-shop,  kept  by  a  Mr.  Pierce,  who  prided  himself 
on  having  shaved  General  Washington,  Old  Put,  and 
many  other  famous  persons. 

"  This  was  not  a  very  dignified  situation  for  our  ven 
erable  chair,"  continued  Grandfather ;  "  but,  you  know, 
there  is  no  better  place  for  news  than  a  barber's-shop. 
All  the  events  of  the  Revolutionary  War  were  heard  of 
there  sooner  than  anywhere  else.  People  used  to  sit  in 
the  chair,  reading  the  newspaper  or  talking,  and  waiting 
to  be  shaved,  while  Mr.  Pierce,  with  his  scissors  and 
razor,  was  at  work  upon  the  heads  or  chins  of  his  other 
customers." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  201 

"  I  am  sorry  the  chair  could  not  betake  itself  to  some 
more  suitable  place  of  refuge/'  said  Laurence.  "  It  was 
old  now,  aiid  must  have  longed  for  quiet.  Besides,  after 
it  had  held  Washington  in  its  arms,  it  ought  not  to  have 
been  compelled  to  receive  all  the  world.  It  should  have 
been  put  into  the  pulpit  of  the  Old  South  Church,  or 
some  other  consecrated  place.3' 

"  Perhaps  so,"  answered  Grandfather.  "  But  the  chair, 
in  the  course  of  its  varied  existence,  had  grown  so  accus 
tomed  to  general  intercourse  with  society,  that  I  doubt 
whether  it  would  have  contented  itself  in  the  pulpit  of 
the  Old  South.  There  it  would  have  stood  solitary,  or 
with  no  livelier  companion  than  the  silent  organ,  in  the 
opposite  gallery,  six  days  out  of  seven.  I  incline  to 
think  that  it  had  seldom  been  situated  more  to  its  mind 
than  on  the  sanded  floor  of  the  snug  little  barber's-shop." 

Then  Grandfather  amused  his  children  and  himself 
with  fancying  all  the  different  sorts  of  people  who  had 
occupied  our  chair  while  they  awaited  the  leisure  of  the 
barber. 

There  was  the  old  clergyman,  such  as  Dr.  Chauncey, 
wearing  a  white  wig,  which  the  barber  took  from  his 
head  and  placed  upon  a  wig-block.  Half  an  hour,  per 
haps,  was  spent  in  combing  and  powdering  this  reverend 
appendage  to  a  clerical  skull.  There,  too,  were  officers 
of  the  continental  army,  who  required  their  hair  to  be 
pomatumed  and  plastered,  so  as  to  give  them  a  bold  and 
martial  aspect.  There,  once  in  a  while,  was  seen  the 
thin,  care-worn,  melancholy  visage  of  an  old  tory,  with  a 
wig  that,  in  times  long  past,  had  perhaps  figured  at  a 
Province  House  ball.  And  there,  not  unfrequently,  sat 
the  rough  captain  of  a  privateer,  just  returned  from  a 
successful  cruise,  in  which  he  had  captured  half  a  dozen 
richly  laden  vessels  belonging  to  King  George's  subjects. 
9* 


202  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

And  sometimes  a  rosy  little  school-boy  climbed  into  our 
chair,  and  sat  staring,  with  wide-open  eyes,  at  the  alli 
gator,  the  rattlesnake,  and  the  other  curiosities  of  the  bar- 
ber's-shop.  His  mother  had  sent  him,  with  sixpence  in 
his  hand,  to  get  his  glossy  curls  cropped  off.  The  inci 
dents  of  the  Revolution  plentifully  supplied  the  barber's 
customers  with  topics  of  conversation.  They  talked  sor 
rowfully  of  the  death  of  General  Montgomery  and  the 
failure  of  our  troops  to  take  Quebec ;  for  the  New-Eng- 
landers  were  now  as  anxious  to  get  Canada  from  the 
English  as  they  had  formerly  been  to  conquer  it  from 
the  French. 

"  But  very  soon,"  said  Grandfather,  "  came  news  from 
Philadelphia,  the  most  important  that  America  had  ever 
heard  of.  On  the  4th  of  July,  1776,  Congress  had 
signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  The  thirteen 
colonies  were  now  free  and  independent  States.  Dark  as 
our  prospects  were,  the  inhabitants  welcomed  these  glo 
rious  tidings,  and  resolved  to  perish  rather  than  again 
bear  the  yoke  of  England." 

"  And  I  would  perish,  too  !  "  cried  Charley. 

"  It  was  a  great  day,  —  a  glorious  deed  !  "  said  Laurence, 
coloring  high  with  enthusiasm.  "And,  Grandfather,  I 
love  to  think  that  the  sages  in  Congress  showed  them 
selves  as  bold  and  true  as  the  soldiers  in  the  field  ;  for  it 
must  have  required  more  courage  to  sign  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  than  to  fight  the  enemy  in  battle." 

Grandfather  acquiesced  in  Laurence's  view  of  the  mat 
ter.  He  then  touched  briefly  and  hastily  upon  the  prom 
inent  events  of  the  Revolution.  The  thunder-storm  of 
war  had  now  rolled  southward,  and  did  not  again  burst 
upon  Massachusetts,  where  its  first  fury  had  been  felt. 
But  she  contributed  her  full  share  to  the  success  of  the 
contest.  Wherever  a  battle  was  fought,  —  whether  at 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  203 

Long  Island,  White  Plains,  Trenton,  Princeton,  Brandy- 
wine,  or  Germantown,  —  some  of  her  brave  sons  were 
found  slain  upon  the  field. 

In  October,  1777,  General  Burgoyne  surrendered  his 
army,  at  Saratoga,  to  the  American  general,  Gates.  The 
captured  troops  were  sent  to  Massachusetts.  Not  long 
afterwards  Dr.  Franklin  and  other  American  commis 
sioners  made  a  treaty  at  Paris,  by  which  France  bound 
herself  to  assist  our  countrymen.  The  gallant  Lafayette 
was  already  fighting  for  our  freedom  by  the  side  of  Wash 
ington.  In  1778  a  French  fleet,  commanded  by  Count 
d'Estaing,  spent  a  considerable  time  in  Boston  Harbor. 
It  marks  the  vicissitudes  of  human  affairs,  that  the 
French,  our  ancient  enemies,  should  come  hither  as 
comrades  and  brethren,  and  that  kindred  England  should 
be  our  foe. 

"  While  the  war  was  raging  in  the  Middle  and  South 
ern  States,"  proceeded  Grandfather, '"  Massachusetts  had 
leisure  to  settle  a  new  constitution  of  government  instead 
of  the  royal  charter.  This  was  done  in  1780.  In  the 
same  year  John  Hancock,  who  had  been  president  of  Con 
gress,  was  chosen  governor  of  the  State.  He  was  the  first 
whom  the  people  had  elected  since  the  days  of  old  Simon 
Bradstreet." 

"  But,  Grandfather,  who  had  been  governor  since  the 
British  were  driven  away  ?  "  inquired  Laurence.  "  Gen 
eral  Gage  and  Sir  William  Howe  were  the  last  whom 
you  have  told  us  of." 

"  There  had  been  no  governor  for  the  last  four  years," 
replied  Grandfather.  "  Massachusetts  had  been  ruled  by 
the  Legislature,  to  whom  the  people  paid  obedience  of 
their  own  accord.  It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  cir 
cumstances  in  our  history,  that,  when  the  charter  gov 
ernment  was  overthrown  by  the  war,  no  anarchy  nor  the 


204  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

slightest  confusion  ensued.  This  was  a  great  honor  to 
the  people.  But  now  Hancock  was  proclaimed  governor 
by  sound  of  trumpet;  and  there  was  again  a  settled  gov 
ernment." 

Grandfather  again  adverted  to  the  progress  of  the  war. 
In  1781  General  Greene  drove  the  British  from  the 
Southern  States.  In  October  of  the  same  year  General 
Washington  compelled  Lord  Cornwallis  to  surrender  his 
army,  at  Yorktown,  in  Virginia.  This  was  the  last  great 
event  of  the  Revolutionary  contest.  King  George  and 
his  ministers  perceived  that  all  the  might  of  England 
could  not  compel  America  to  renew  her  allegiance  to  the 
crown.  After  a  great  deal  of  discussion,  a  treaty  of 
peace  was  signed  in  September,  1783. 

"  Now,  at  last,"  said  Grandfather,  "  after  weary  years 
of  war,  the  regiments  of  Massachusetts  returned  in  peace 
to  their  families.  Now  the  stately  and  dignified  leaders, 
such  as  General  Lincoln  and  General  Knox,  with  their 
powdered  hair  and  their  uniforms  of  blue  and  buff,  were 
seen  moving  about  the  streets." 

"  And  little  boys  ran  after  them,  I  suppose,"  remarked 
Charley ;  "  and  the  grown  people  bowed  respectfully." 

"  They  deserved  respect ;  for  they  were  good  men  as 
well  as  brave,"  answered  Grandfather.  "  Now,  too,  the 
inferior  officers  and  privates  came  home  to  seek  some 
peaceful  occupation.  Their  friends  remembered  them  as 
slender  and  smooth-cheeked  young  men;  but  they  re 
turned  with  the  erect  and  rigid  mien  of  disciplined  sol 
diers.  Some  hobbled  on  crutches  and  wooden  legs; 
others  had  received  wounds,  which  were  still  rankling  in 
their  breasts.  Many,  alas  !  had  fallen  in  battle,  and  per 
haps  were  left  unburied  on  the  bloody  field." 

"  The  country  must  have  been  sick  of  war,"  observed 
Laurence. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  205 

11  One  would  have  thought  so,"  said  Grandfather. 
"  Yet  only  two  or  three  years  elapsed  before  the  folly  of 
some  misguided  men  caused  another  mustering  of  sol 
diers.  This  affair  was  called  Shays's  war,  because  a 
Captain  Shays  was  the  chief  leader  of  the  insurgents." 

"  O  Grandfather,  don't  let  there  be  another  war  ! " 
cried  little  Alice,  piteously. 

Grandfather  comforted  his  dear  little  girl  by  assuring 
her  that  there  was  no  great  mischief  done.  Shays's  war 
happened  in  the  latter  part  of  1786  and  the  beginning  of 
the  following  year.  Its  principal  cause  was  the  badness 
of  times.  The  State  of  Massachusetts,  in  its  public  ca 
pacity,  was  very  much  in  debt.  So  likewise  were  many 
of  the  people.  An  insurrection  took  place,  the  object  of 
which  seems  to  have  been,  to  interrupt  the  course  of  law 
and  get  rid  of  debts  and  taxes. 

James  Bowdoin,  a  good  and  able  man,  was  now  gov 
ernor  of  Massachusetts.  He  sent  General  Lincoln,  at 
the  head  of  four  thousand  men,  to  put  down  the  insurrec 
tion.  This  general,  who  had  fought  through  several  hard 
campaigns  in  the  Revolution,  managed  matters  like  an 
old  soldier,  and  totally  defeated  the  rebels  at  the  expense 
of  very  little  blood. 

"  There  is  but  one  more  public  event  to  be  recorded  in 
the  history  of  our  chair,"  proceeded  Grandfather.  "  In 
the  year  1794  Samuel  Adams  was  elected  governor  of 
Massachusetts.  I  have  told  you  what  a  distinguished 
patriot  he  was,  and  how  much  he  resembled  the  stern  old 
Puritans.  Could  the  ancient  freemen  of  Massachusetts 
who  lived  in  the  days  of  the  first  charter  have  arisen 
from  their  graves,  they  would  probably  have  voted  for 
Samuel  Adams  to  be  governor." 

"  Well,  Grandfather,  I  hope  he  sat  in  our  chair,"  said 
Clara. 


206  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

"  He  did,"  replied  Grandfather.  "  He  had  long  been 
in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  barber's  shop,  where  our  ven 
erable  chair,  philosophically  forgetful  of  its  former  digni 
ties,  had  now  spent  nearly  eighteen  not  uncomfortable 
years.  Such  a  remarkable  piece  of  furniture,  so  evidently 
a  relic  of  long-departed  times,  could  not  escape  the  no 
tice  of  Samuel  Adams.  He  made  minute  researches  into 
its  history,  and  ascertained  what  a  succession  of  excellent 
and  famous  people  had  occupied  it." 

"  How  did  he  find  it  out  ?  "  asked  Charley ;  "  for  I 
suppose  the  chair  could  not  tell  its  own  history.5'* 

"  There  used  to  be  a  vast  collection  of  ancient  letters 
and  other  documents  in  the  tower  of  the  Old  South 
Church/'  answered  Grandfather.  "  Perhaps  the  history 
of  our  chair  was  contained  among  these.  At  all  events, 
Samuel  Adams  appears  to  have  been  well  acquainted  with 
it.  When  he  became  governor,  he  felt  that  he  could 
have  no  more  honorable  seat  than  that  which  had  been 
the  ancient  chair  of  state.  He  therefore  purchased  it  for 
a  trifle,  and  filled  it  worthily  for  three  years  as  governor 
of  Massachusetts." 

"  And  what  next  ?  "  asked  Charley. 

' '  That  is  all,"  said  Grandfather,  heaving  a  sigh ;  for 
lie  could  not  help  being  a  little  sad  at  the  thought  that 
his  stories  must  close  here.  "  Samuel  Adams  died  in 
1803,  at  the  age  of  above  threescore  and  ten.  He  was 
a  great  patriot,  but  a  poor  man.  At  his  death  he  left 
scarcely  property  enough  to  pay  the  expenses  of  his 
funeral.  This  precious  chair,  among  his  other  effects, 
was  sold  at  auction ;  and  your  Grandfather,  who  was 
then  in  the  strength  of  his  years,  became  the  pur 
chaser." 

Laurence,  with  a  mind  full  of  thoughts  that  struggled 
for  expression  but  could  find  none,  looked  steadfastly  at 
the  chair. 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  207 

He  had  now  learned  all  its  history,  yet  was  not  sat 
isfied. 

"  O,  how  I  wish  that  the  chair  could  speak  ! "  cried 
he.  "After  its  long  intercourse  with  mankind, — after 
looking  upon  the  world  for  ages,  —  what  lessons  of 
golden  wisdom  it  might  utter  !  It  might  teach  a  private 
person  how  to  lead  a  good  and  happy  life,  or  a  statesman 
how  to  make  his  country  prosperous." 


CHAPTER    XI. 


RANDEATHER  was  struck  by  Laurence's  idea 
that  the  historic  chair  should  utter  a  voice,  and 
thus  pour  forth  the  collected  Avisdom  of  two 
centuries.  The  old  gentleman  had  once  possessed  no 
inconsiderable  share  of  fancy ;  and  even  now  its  fading 
sunshine  occasionally  glimmered  among  his  more  sombre 
reflections. 

As  the  history  of  his  chair  had  exhausted  all  his  facts, 
Grandfather  determined  to  have  recourse  to  fable.  So, 
after  warning  the  children  that  they  must  not  mistake 
this  story  for  a  true  one,  he  related  what  we  shall  call 


GBANDFATHEB/S  DREAM. 

Laurence  and  Clara,  where  were  you  last  night  ? 
Where  were  you,  Charley,  and  dear  little  Alice  ?  You 
had  all  gone  to  rest,  and  left  old  Grandfather  to  meditate 
alone  in  his  great  chair.  The  lamp  had  grown  so  dim 
that  its  light  hardly  illuminated  the  alabaster  shade. 
The  wood-fire  had  crumbled  into  heavy  embers,  among 
which  the  little  flames  danced,  and  quivered,  and  sported 
about  like  fairies. 

And  here  sat  Grandfather  all  by  himself.  He  knew 
that  it  was  bedtime ;  yet  he  could  not  help  longing  to 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  209 

hear  your  merry  voices,  or  to  hold  a  comfortable  chat 
with  some  old  friend ;  because  then  his  pillow  would  be 
visited  by  pleasant  dreams.  But,  as  neither  children  nor 
friends  were  at  hand,  Grandfather  leaned  back  in  the 
great  chair  and  closed  his  eyes,  for  the  sake  of  meditat 
ing  more  profoundly. 

And,  when  Grandfather's  meditations  had  grown  very 
profound  indeed,  he  fancied  that  he  heard  a  sound  over 
his  head,  as  if  somebody  were  preparing  to  speak. 

"  Hem  !  "  it  said,  in  a  dry,  husky  tone.  "  H-e-m  ! 
Hem  ! " 

As  Grandfather  did  not  know  that  any  person  was  in 
the  room,  he  started  up  in  great  surprise,  and  peeped 
hither  and  thither,  behind  the  chair,  and  into  the  recess 
by  the  fireside,  and  at  the  dark  nook  yonder  near  the 
bookcase.  Nobody  could  he  see. 

"  Poll ! "  said  Grandfather  to  himself,  "  I  must  have 
been  dreaming." 

But,  just  as  he  was  going  to  resume  his  seat,  Grandfa 
ther  happened  to  look  at  the  great  chair.  The  rays  of 
firelight  were  flickering  upon  it  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
really  seemed  as  if  its  oaken  frame  were  all  alive.  What ! 
did  it  not  move  its  elbow  ?  There,  too  !  It  certainly 
lifted  one  of  its  ponderous  fore  legs,  as  if  it  had  a 
notion  of  drawing  itself  a  little  nearer  to  the  fire.  Mean 
while  the  lion's  head  nodded  at  Grandfather  with  as 
polite  and  sociable  a  look  as  a  lion's  visage,  carved  in 
oak,  could  possibly  be  expected  to  assume.  Well,  this 
is  strange  ! 

"  Good  evening,  my  old  friend,"  said  the  dry  and 
husky  voice,  now  a  little  clearer  than  before.  "  We 
have  been  intimately  acquainted  so  long  that  I  think 
it  high  time  we  have  a  chat  together." 

Grandfather  was  looking  straight  at  the  lion's  Imd, 

N 


210  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

and  could  not  be  mistaken  in  supposing  that  it  moved 
its  lips.  So  here  the  mystery  was  all  explained. 

"  I  was  not  aware/'  said  Grandfather,  with  a  civil 
salutation  to  his  oaken  companion,  "  that  you  possessed 
the  faculty  of  speech.  Otherwise  I  should  often  have 
been  glad  to  converse  with  such  a  solid,  useful,  and 
substantial  if  not  brilliant  member  of  society." 

"  Oh  !  "  replied  the  ancient  chair,  in  a  quiet  and  easy 
tone;  for  it  had  no\v  cleared  its  throat  of  the  dust  ot 
ages.  "I  am  naturally  a  silent  and  incommunicative 
sort  of  character.  Once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  a 
century  I  unclose  my  lips.  When  the  gentle  Lady  Ar- 
bella  departed  this  life  I  uttered  a  groan.  When  the 
honest  mint-master  weighed  his  plump  daughter  against 
the  pine-tree  shillings  I  chuckled  audibly  at  the  joke. 
When  old  Simon  Bradstreet  took  the  place  of  the  tyrant 
Andros  I  joined  in  the  general  huzza,  and  capered  on  my 
wooden  legs  for  joy.  To  be  sure,  the  bystanders  were 
so  fully  occupied  with  their  own  feelings  that  my  sym 
pathy  was  quite  unnoticed." 

"And  have  you  often  held  a  private  chat  with  your 
friends  ?  "  asked  Grandfather. 

"Not  often,"  answered  the  chair.  "I  once  talked 
with  Sir  William  Phipps,  and  communicated  my  ideas 
about  the  witchcraft  delusion.  Cotton  Mather  had  sev 
eral  conversations  with  me,  and  derived  great  benefit 
from  my  historical  reminiscences.  In  the  days  of  the 
Stamp  Act  I  whispered  in  the  ear  of  Hutchinson,  bidding 
him  to  remember  what  stock  his  countrymen  were  de 
scended  of,  and  to  think  whether  the  spirit  of  their  fore 
fathers  had  utterly  departed  from  them.  The  last  man 
whom  I  favored  with  a  colloquy  was  that  stout  old  re 
publican,  Samuel  Adams." 

"And  how  happens  it,"  inquired  Grandfather,  "that 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  211 

there  is  no  record  nor  tradition  of  your  conversational 
abilities  !  It  is  an  uncommon  thing  to  meet  with  a  chair 
that  can  talk." 

"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth/'  said  the  chair,  giving 
itself  a  hitch  nearer  to  the  hearth,  "I  am  not  apt  to 
choose  the  most  suitable  moments  for  unclosing  my  lips. 
Sometimes  I  have  inconsiderately  begun  to  speak,  when 
my  occupant,  lolling  back  in  my  arms,  was  inclined  to 
take  an  after-dinner  nap.  Or  perhaps  the  impulse  to 
talk  may  be  felt  at  midnight,  when  the  lamp  burns  dim 
and  the  fire  crumbles  into  decay,  and  the  studious  or 
thoughtful  man  finds  that  his  brain  is  in  a  mist.  Often- 
est  I  have  unwisely  uttered  my  wisdom  in  the  ears  of 
sick  persons,  when  the  inquietude  of  fever  made  them 
toss  about  upon  my  cushion.  And  so  it  happens,  that 
though  my  words  make  a  pretty  strong  impression  at 
the  moment,  yet  my  auditors  invariably  remember  them 
only  as  a  dream.  I  should  not  wonder  if  you,  my  ex 
cellent  friend,  were  to  do  the  same  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

"  Nor  I  either,"  thought  Grandfather  to  himself. 

However,  he  thanked  this  respectable  old  chair  for  be 
ginning  the  conversation,  and  begged  to  know  whether  it 
had  anything  particular  to  communicate. 

"  I  have  been  listening  attentively  to  your  narrative  of 
my  adventures,"  replied  the  chair ;  "  and  it  must  be 
owned  that  your  correctness  entitles  you  to  be  held  up  as 
a  pattern  to  biographers.  Nevertheless,  there  are  a  few 
omissions  which  I  should  be  glad  to  see  supplied.  For 
instance,  you  make  no  mention  of  the  good  knight  Sir 
Richard  Saltonstall,  nor  of  the  famous  Hugh  Peters,  nor 
of  those  old  regicide  judges,  Whalley,  Goffe,  and  Dixwell. 
Yet  I  have  borne  the  weight  of  all  those  distinguished 
characters  at  one  time  or  another." 


212  GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR. 

Grandfather  promised  amendment  if  ever  lie  shpuld 
have  an  opportunity  to  repeat  his  narrative.  The  good 
old  chair,  which  still  seemed  to  retain  a  due  regard  for 
outward  appearance,  then  reminded  him  how  long  a  time 
had  passed  since  it  had  been  provided  with  a  new  cush 
ion.  It  likewise  expressed  the  opinion  that  the  oaken 
figures  on  its  back  would  show  to  much  better  advantage 
by  the  aid  of  a  little  varnish. 

"  And  I  have  had  a  complaint  in  this  joint,"  continued 
the  chair,  endeavoring  to  lift  one  of  its  legs,  "  ever  since 
Charley  trundled  his  wheelbarrow  against  me." 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to,"  said  Grandfather.  "  And 
now,  venerable  chair,  I  have  a  favor  to  solicit.  During 
an  existence  of  more  than  two  centuries  you  have  had  a 
familiar  intercourse  with  men  who  were  esteemed  the 
wisest  of  their  day.  Doubtless,  with  your  capacious  un 
derstanding,  you  have  treasured  up  many  an  invaluable 
lesson  of  wisdom.  You  certainly  have  had  time  enough 
to  guess  the  riddle  of  life.  Tell  us  poor  mortals,  then, 
Low  we  may  be  happy." 

The  lion's  head  fixed  its  eyes  thoughtfully  upon  the 
fire,  and  the  whole  chair  assumed  an  aspect  of  deep  med 
itation.  Finally  it  beckoned  to  Grandfather  with  its 
elbow,  and  made  a  step  sideways  towards  him,  as  if  it 
had  a  very  important  secret  to  communicate. 

"  As  long  as  I  have  stood  in  the  midst  of  human  affairs," 
said  the  chair,  with  a  very  oracular  enunciation,  "  I  have 
constantly  observed  that  JUSTICE,  TRUTH,  and  LOVE  are 
the  chief  ingredients  of  every  happy  life." 

"  Justice,  Truth,  and  Love  !  "  exclaimed  Grandfather. 
"  We  need  not  exist  two  centuries  to  find  out  that  these 
qualities  are  essential  to  our  happiness.  This  is  no  se 
cret.  Every  human  being  is  born  with  the  instinctive 
knowledge  of  it." 


GRANDFATHER'S    CHAIR.  213 

"All!"  cried  the  chair,  drawing  back  in  surprise. 
"Prom  what  I  have  observed  of  the  dealings  of  man  with 
man,  and  nation  with  nation,  I  never  should  have  sus 
pected  that  they  knew  this  all-important  secret.  And, 
with  this  eternal  lesson  written  in  your  soul,  do  you  ask 
me  to  sift  new  wisdom  for  you  out  of  my  petty  existence 
of  two  or  three  centuries  ?  " 

"But,  my  dear  chair —  "  said  Grandfather. 

"Not  a  word  more,"  interrupted  the  chair;  "here  I 
close  my  lips  for  the  next  hundred  years.  At  the  end  of 
that  period,  if  I  shall  have  discovered  any  new  precepts 
of  happiness  better  than  what  Heaven  has  already  taught 
you,  they  shall  assuredly  be  given  to  the  world." 

In  the  energy  of  its  utterance  the  oaken  chair  seemed 
to  stamp  its  foot,  and  trod  (we  hope  unintentionally)  upon 
Grandfather's  toe.  The  old  gentleman  started,  and  found 
that  he  had  been  asleep  in  the  great  chair,  and  that  his 
heavy  walking-stick  had  fallen  down  across  his  foot. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  little  Alice,  clapping  her  hands, 
"you  must  dream  a  new  dream  every  night  about  our 
chair ! " 

Laurence,  and  Clara,  and  Charley  said  the  same.  But 
the  good  old  gentleman  shook  his  head,  and  declared  that 
here  ended  the  history,  real  or  fabulous,  of  GRANDFA 
THER'S  CHAIR. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 


BENJAMIN  WEST. 
Sill  ISAAC  NEWTON. 
SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


OLIVER  CROMWELL, 
BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 
QUEEN  CHRISTINA. 


fir 


THIS  small  volume  and  others  of  a  similar  character, 
from  the  same  hand,  have  not  been  composed  without  a 
deep  sense  of  responsibility.  The  author  regards  chil 
dren  as  sacred,  and  would  not,  for  the  world,  cast  any 
thing  into  the  fountain  of  a  young  heart  that  might  em 
bitter  and  pollute  its  waters.  And,  even  in  point  of  the 
reputation  to  be  aimed  at,  juvenile  literature  is  as  well 
worth  cultivating  as  any  other.  The  writer,  if  he  succeed 
in  pleasing  his  little  readers,  may  hope  to  be  remembered 
by  them  till  their  own  old  age,  —  a  far  longer  period  of 
literary  existence  than  is  generally  attained  by  those  who 
seek  immortality  from  the  j  udgments  of  full-grown  men. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STOEIES. 


CHAPTER    I. 

|HEN  Edward  Temple  was  about  eight  or  nine 
years  old  lie  was  afflicted  with  a  disorder  of  the 
eyes.  It  was  so  severe,  and  his  sight  was  nat 
urally  so  delicate,  that  the  surgeon  felt  some  apprehen 
sions  lest  the  boy  should  become  totally  blind.  He 
therefore  gave  strict  directions  to  keep  hirn  in  a  dark 
ened  chamber,  with  a  bandage  over  his  eyes.  Not  a  ray 
of  the  blessed  light  of  heaven  could  be  suffered  to  visit 
the  poor  lad. 

This  was  a  sad  thing  for  Edward.  It  was  just  the 
same  as  if  there  were  to  be  no  more  sunshine,  nor  moon 
light,  nor  glow  of  the  cheerful  fire,  nor  light  of  lamps. 
A  night  had  begun  which  was  to  continue  perhaps  for 
months,  —  a  longer  and  drearier  night  than  that  which 
voyagers  are  compelled  to  endure  when  their  ship  is  ice 
bound,  throughout  the  winter,  in  the  Arctic  Ocean.  His 
dear  father  and  mother,  his  brother  George,  and  the 
sweet  face  of  little  Emily  Robinson  must  all  vanish  and 
leave  him  in  utter  darkness  and  solitude.  Their  voices 
and  footsteps,  it  is  true,  would  be  heard  around  him  ;  he 
would  feel  his  mother's  embrace  and  the  kind  pressure 
10 


218  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

of  all  their  hands  ;  but  still  it  would  seem  as  if  they  were 
a  thousand  miles  away. 

And  then  his  studies,  — they  were  to  be  entirely  given 
up.  This  was  another  grievous  trial ;  for  Edward's 
memory  hardly  went  back  to  the  period  when  he  had 
not  known  how  to  read.  Many  and  many  a  holiday  had 
he  spent  at  his  book,  poring  over  its  pages  until  the 
deepening  twilight  confused  the  print  and  made  all  the 
letters  run  into  long  words.  Then  would  he  press  his 
hands  across  his  eyes  and  wonder  why  they  pained  him 
so ;  and  when  the  candles  were  lighted,  what  was  the 
reason  that  they  burned  so  dimly,  like  the  moon  in  a 
foggy  night  ?  Poor  little  fellow !  So  far  as  his  eyes 
were  concerned  he  was  already  an  old  man,  and*  needed 
a  pair  of  spectacles  almost  as  much  as  his  own  grand 
father  did. 

And  now,  alas !  the  time  was  come  when  even  grand 
father's  spectacles  could  not  have  assisted  Edward  to 
read.  After  a  few  bitter  tears,  which  only  pained  his 
eyes  the  more,  the  poor  boy  submitted  to  the  surgeon's 
orders.  His  eyes  were  bandaged,  and,  with  his  mother 
on  one  side  and  his  little  friend  Emily  on  the  other,  he 
was  led  into  a  darkened  chamber. 

"  Mother,  I  shall  be  very  miserable  !  "  said  Edward, 
sobbing. 

"  O  no,  my  dear  child  !  "  replied  his  mother,  cheer 
fully.  "  Your  eyesight  was  a  precious  gift  of  Heaven,  it 
is  true  ;  but  you  would  do  wrong  to  be  miserable  for  its 
loss,  even  if  there  were  no  hope  of  regaining  it.  There 
are  other  enjoyments  besides  what  come  to  us  through 
our  eyes." 

"  None  that  are  worth  having,"  said  Edward. 

"  Ah,  but  you  will  not  think  so  long,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Temple,  with  tenderness.  "  All  of  us  —  your  father,  and 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  219 

myself,  and  George,  and  our  sweet  Emily — will  try  to 
find  occupation  and  amusement  for  you.  We  will  use 
all  our  eyes  to  make  you  bappy.  Will  they  not  be  better 
than  a  single  pair  ?  " 

"  I  will  sit  by  you  all  day  long,"  said  Emily,  in  her 
low,  sweet  voice,  putting  her  hand  into  that  of  Edward. 

"  And  so  will  I,  Ned,"  said  George,  his  elder  brother, 
"  school  time  and  all,  if  my  father  will  permit  me." 

Edward's  brother  George  was  three  or  four  years  older 
than  himself,  —  a  fine,  hardy  lad,  of  a  bold  and  ardent 
temper.  He  was  the  leader  of  his  comrades  in  all  their 
enterprises  and  amusements.  As  to  his  proficiency  at 
study  there  was  not  much  to  be  said.  He  had  sense  and 
ability  enough  to  have  made  himself  a  scholar,  but  found 
so  many  pleasanter  things  to  do  that  he  seldom  took  hold 
of  a  book  with  his  whole  heart.  So  fond  was  George  of 
boisterous  sports  and  exercises  that  it  was  really  a  great 
token  of  affection  and  sympathy  when  he  offered  to  sit  all 
day  long  in  a  dark  chamber  with  his  poor  brother  Ed 
ward. 

As  for  little  Emily  Robinson,  she  was  the  daughter  of 
one  of  Mr.  Temple's  dearest  friends.  Ever  since  her 
mother  went  to  heaven  (which  was  soon  after  Emily's 
birth)  the  little  girl  had  dwelt  in  the  household  where 
we  now  find  her.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Temple  seemed  to  love 
her  as  well  as  their  own  children ;  for  they  had  no  daugh 
ter  except  Emily ;  nor  would  the  boys  have  known  the 
blessing  of  a  sister  had  not  this  gentle  stranger  come  to 
teach  them  what  it  was.  If  I  could  show  you  Emily's 
face,  with  her  dark  hair  smoothed  away  from  her  forehead, 
you  would  be  pleased  with  her  look  of  simplicity  and  lov 
ing  kindness,  but  might  think  that  she  was  somewhat  too 
grave  for  a  child  of  seven  years  old.  But  you  would  not 
love  her  the  less  for  that. 


220  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

So  brother  Georga  and  this  loving  little  girl  were  to 
be  Edward's  companions  and  playmates  while  he  should 
be  kept  prisoner  in  the  dark  chamber.  When  the  first 
bitterness  of  his  grief  was  over  he  began  to  feel  that 
there  might  be  some  comforts  and  enjoyments  in  life 
even  for  a  boy  whose  eyes  were  covered  with  a  band 
age. 

"  I  thank  you,  dear  mother,"  said  he,  with  only  a  few 
sobs ;  "  and  you,  Emily ;  and  you  too,  George.  You 
will  all  be  very  kind  to  me,  I  know.  And  my  father,  — • 
will  not  he  come  and  see  me  every  day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Mr.  Temple ;  for,  though 
invisible  to  Edward,  he  was  standing  close  beside  him. 
"  I  will  spend  some  hours  of  every  day  with  you.  And 
as  I  have  often  amused  you  by  relating  stories  and 
adventures  while  you  had  the  use  of  your  eyes,  I  can  do 
the  same  now  that  you  are  unable  to  read.  Will  this 
please  you,  Edward  ?  " 

"  0,  very  much,"  replied  Edward. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  his  father,  "  this  evening  we  will 
begin  the  series  of  Biographical  Stories  which  I  promised 
you  some  time  ago." 


CHAPTEE    II. 

|  HEN  evening  came,  Mr.  Temple  found  Edward 
considerably  revived  in  spirits  and  disposed  to 
be  resigned  to  his  misfortune.  Indeed,  the  fig 
ure  of  the  boy,  as  it  w.as  dimly  seen  by  the  firelight, 
reclining  in  a  well-stuffed  easy-chair,  looked  so  very 
comfortable  that  many  people  might  have  envied  him. 
When  a  man's  eyes  have  grown  old  with  gazing  at  the 
ways  of  the  world,  it  does  not  seem  such  a  terrible  mis 
fortune  to  have  them  bandaged. 

Little  Emily  llobinson  sat  by  Edward's  side  with  the 
air  of  an  accomplished  nurse.  As  well  as  the  duskiness 
of  the  chamber  would  permit  she  watched  all  his  motions 
and  each  varying  expression  of  his  face,  and  tried  to 
anticipate  her  patient's  wishes  before  his  tongue  could 
utter  them.  Yet  it  was  noticeable  that  the  child  mani 
fested  an  indescribable  awe  and  disquietude  whenever 
she  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  bandage;  for,  to  her  simple 
and  affectionate  heart,  it  seemed  as  if  her  dear  friend 
Edward  was  separated  from  her  because  she  could  not 
see  his  eyes.  A  friend's  eyes  tell  us  many  things  which 
could  never  be  spoken  by  the  tongue. 

George,  likewise,  looked  awkward  and  confused,  as 
stout  and  healthy  boys  are  accustomed  to  do  in  the  soci 
ety  of  the  sick  or  afflicted.  Never  having  felt  pain  or 
sorrow,  they  are  abashed,  from  not  knowing  how  to  sym 
pathize  with  the  sufferings  of  others. 


222  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

"Well,  my  dear  Edward,"  inquired  Mrs.  Temple,  "is 
your  chair  quite  comfortable  ?  and  has  your  little  nurse 
provided  for  all  your  wants  ?  If  so,  your  lather  is  ready 
to  begin  his  stories." 

"  O,  I  am  very  well  now,"  answered  Edward,  with  a 
faint  smile.  "  And  my  ears  have  not  forsaken  me,  though 
my  eyes  are  good  for  nothing.  So  pray,  dear  father, 
begin." 

It  was  Mr.  Temple's  design  to  tell  the  children  a  series 
of  true  stories,  the  incidents  of  which  should  be  taken 
from  the  childhood  and  early  life  of  eminent  people. 
Thus  he  hoped  to  bring  George,  and  Edward,  and  Emily 
into  closer  acquaintance  with. the  famous  persons  who 
have  lived  in  other  times  by  showing  that  they  also  had 
been  children  once.  Although  Mr.  Temple  was  scrupu 
lous  to  relate  nothing  but  what  was  founded  on  fact,  yet 
he  felt  himself  at  liberty  to  clothe  the  incidents  of  his 
narrative  in  a  new  coloring,  so  that  his  auditors  might 
understand  them  the  better. 

"  My  first  story,"  said  he,  "  shall  be  about  a  painter  of 
pictures." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  cried  Edward,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  am  afraid 
I  shall  never  look  at  pictures  any  more." 

"  We  will  hope  for  the  best,"  answered  his  father.  "  In 
the  mean  time,  you  must  try  to  see  things  within  your 
own  mind." 

Mr.  Temple  then  began  the  following  story  :  — 

BENJAMIN  WEST. 

[BORN  1738.    DIED  1820.  j 

In  the  year  1738  there  came  into  the  world,  in  the 
town  of  Springfield,  Pennsylvania,  a  Quaker  infant,  from 
whom  his  parents  and  neighbors  looked  for  wonderful 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  223 

things.  A  famous  preacher  of  the  Society  of  Friends  had 
prophesied  about  little  Ben,  and  foretold  that  he  would 
be  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characters  that  had  ap 
peared  on  the  earth  since  the  days  of  William  Penn.  On 
this  account  the  eyes  of  many  people  were  fixed  upon  the 
boy.  Some  of  his  ancestors  had  won  great  renown  in  the 
old  wars  of  England  and  France;  but  it  was  probably 
expected  that  Ben  would  become  a  preacher,  and  would 
convert  multitudes  to  the  peaceful  doctrines  of  the  Qua 
kers.  Friend  West  and  his  wife  were  thought  to  be  very 
fortunate  in  having  such  a  son. 

Little  Ben  lived  to  the  ripe  age  of  six  years  without 
doing  anything  that  was  worthy  to  be  told  in  history. 
But  one  summer  afternoon,  in  his  seventh  year,  his  mother 
put  a  fan  into  his  hand  and  bade  him  keep  the  flies  away 
from  the  face  of  a  little  babe  who  lay  fast  asleep  in  the 
cradle.  She  then  left  the  room. 

The  boy  waved  the  fan  to  and  fro  and  drove  away  the 
buzzing  flies  whenever  they  had  the  impertinence  to 
come  near  the  baby's  face.  When  they  had  all  flown  out 
of  the  window  or  into  distant  parts  of  the  room,  he  bent 
over  the  cradle  and  delighted  himself  with  gazing  at  the 
sleeping  infant.  It  was,  indeed,  a  very  pretty  sight. 
The  little  personage  in  the  cradle  slumbered  peacefully, 
with  its  waxen  hands  under  its  chin,  looking  as  full  of 
blissful  quiet  as  if  angels  were  singing  lullabies  in  its 
ear.  Indeed,  it  must  have  been  dreaming  about  heaven  ; 
for,  while  Ben  stooped  over  the  cradle,  the  little  baby 
smiled. 

"  How  beautiful  she  looks  !  "  said  Ben  to  himself. 
"  What  a  pity  it  is  that  such  a  pretty  smile  should  not 
last  forever !  " 

Now  Ben,  at  this  period  of  his  life,  had  never  heard 
of  that  wonderful  art  by  which  a  look,  that  appears  and 


224  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

vanishes  in  a  moment,  may  be  made  to  last  for  hundreds 
of  years.  But,  though  nobody  had  told  him  of  such  an 
art,  he  may  be  said  to  have  invented  it  for  himself.  On 
a  table  near  at  hand  there  were  pens  and  paper,  and  ink 
of  two  colors,  black  and  red.  The  boy  seized  a  pen  and 
sheet  of  paper,  and,  kneeling  down  beside  the  cradle, 
began  to  draw  a  likeness  of  the  infant.  While  he  was 
busied  in  this  manner  he  heard  his  mother's  step  approach 
ing,  and  hastily  tried  to  conceal  the  paper. 

"  Benjamin,  my  son,  what  hast  thou  been  doing  ? " 
inquired  his  mother,  observing  marks  of  confusion  in  his 
face. 

At  first  Ben  was  unwilling  to  tell ;  for  he  felt  as  if 
there  might  be  something  wrong  in  stealing  the  baby's 
face  and  putting  it  upon  a  sheet  of  paper.  However, 
as  his  mother  insisted,  he  finally  put  the  sketch  into  her 
hand,  and  then  hung  his  head,  expecting  to  be  well 
scolded.  But  when  the  good  lady  saw  what  was  on  the 
paper,  in  lines  of  red  and  black  ink,  she  uttered  a  scream 
of  surprise  and  joy. 

"  Bless  me !  "  cried  she.  "  It  is  a  picture  of  little 
Sally !  " 

And  then  she  threw  her  arms  round  our  friend  Ben 
jamin,  and  kissed  him  so  tenderly  that  he  never  after 
wards  was  afraid  to  show  his  performances  to  his  mother. 

As  Ben  grew  older,  he  was  observed  to  take  vast  delight 
in  looking  at  the  hues  and  forms  of  nature.  For  instance, 
he  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  blue  violets  of  spring,  the 
wild  roses  of  summer,  and  the  scarlet  cardinal-flowers  of 
early  autumn.  In  the  decline  of  the  year,  when  the 
woods  were  variegated  with  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow, 
Ben  seemed  to  desire  nothing  better  than  to  gaze  at 
them  from  morn  till  night.  The  purple  and  golden 
clouds  of  sunset  were  a  joy  to  him.  And  he  was  con- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  225 

tinually  endeavoring  to  draw  the  figures  of  trees,  men, 
mountains,  houses,  cattle,  geese,  ducks,  and  turkeys, 
with  a  piece  of  chalk,  on  barn  doors  or  on  the  floor. 

In  these  old  times  the  Mohawk  Indians  were  still  nu 
merous  in  Pennsylvania.  Every  year  a  party  of  them 
used  to  pay  a  visit  to  Springfield,  because  the  wigwams 
of  their  ancestors  had  formerly  stood  there.  These  wild 
men  grew  fond  of  little  Ben,  and  made  him  very  happy 
by  giving  him  some  of  the  red  and  yellow  paint  with 
which  they  were  accustomed  to  adorn  their  faces.  His 
mother,  too,  presented  him  with  a  piece  of  indigo.  Thus 
he  now  had  three  colors, —  red,  blue,  and  yellow, — and 
could  manufacture  green  by  mixing  the  yellow  with  the 
blue.  Our  friend  Ben  was  overjoyed,  and  doubtless 
showed  his  gratitude  to  the  Indians  by  taking  their  like 
nesses  in  the  strange  dresses  which  they  wore,  with  feath 
ers,  tomahawks,  and  bows  and  arrows. 

But  all  this  time  the  young  artist  had  no  paint-brushes  ; 
nor  were  there  any  to  be  bought,  unless  lie  had  sent  to 
Philadelphia  on  purpose.  However,  he  was  a  very  in 
genious  boy,  and  resolved  to  manufacture  paint-brushes 
for  himself.  With  this  design  he  laid  hold  upon  —  what 
do  you  think  ?  Why,  upon  a  respectable  old  black  cat, 
who  was  sleeping  quietly  by  the  fireside. 

"  Puss,"  said  little  Ben  to  the  cat,  "  pray  give  me  some 
of  the  fur  from  the  tip  of  thy  tail  ?  " 

Though  he  addressed  the  black  cat  so  civilly,  yet  Ben 
was  determined  to  have  the  fur  whether  she  were  willing 
or  not.  Puss,  who  had  no  great  zeal  for  the  fine  arts, 
would  have  resisted  if  she  could ;  but  the  boy  was 
armed  with  his  mother's  scissors,  and  very  dexterously 
clipped  off  fur  enough  to  make  a  paint-brush.  This  was 
of  so  much  use  to  him  that  he  applied  to  Madame  Puss 
again  and  again,  until  her  warm  coat  of  fur  had  become 
10*  o 


226  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

so  thin  and  ragged  that  she  could  hardly  keep  comfortable 
through  the  winter.  Poor  thing!  she  was  forced  to 
creep  close  into  the  chimney-corner,  and  eyed  Ben  with  a 
very  rueful  physiognomy.  But  Ben  considered  it  more 
necessary  that  he  should  have  paint-brushes  than  that 
puss  should  be  warm. 

About  this  period  friend  West  received  a  visit  from 
Mr.  Pennington,  a  merchant  of  Philadelphia,  who  was 
likewise  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends.  The  vis 
itor,  on  entering  the  parlor,  was  surprised  to  see  it  orna 
mented  with  drawings  of  Indian  chiefs,  and  of  birds  with 
beautiful  plumage,  and  of  the  wild  flowers  of  the  forest. 
Nothing  of  the  kind  was  ever  seen  before  in  the  habita 
tion  of  a  Quaker  farmer. 

"  Why,  Friend  West,"  exclaimed  the  Philadelphia  mer 
chant,  "  what  has  possessed  thee  to  cover  thy  walls  with 
all  these  pictures  ?  Where  on  earth  didst  thou  get 
them?" 

Then  Friend  West  explained  that  all  these  pictures 
were  painted  by  little  Ben,  with  no  better  materials  than 
red  and  yellow  ochre  and  a  piece  of  indigo,  and  with 
brushes  made  of  the  black  cat's  fur. 

"  Verily,"  said  Mr.  Pennington,  "  the  boy  hath  a  won 
derful  faculty.  Some  of  our  friends  might  look  upon 
these  matters  as  vanity  ;  but  little  Benjamin  appears  to 
have  been  born  a  painter ;  and  Providence  is  wiser  than 
we  are." 

The  good  merchant  patted  Benjamin  on  the  head,  and 
evidently  considered  him  a  wonderful  boy.  When  his 
parents  saw  how  much  their  son's  performances  were  ad 
mired,  they,  no  doubt,  remembered  the  prophecy  of  the 
old  Quaker  preacher  respecting  Ben's  future  eminence. 
Yet  they  could  not  understand  how  he  was  ever  to  be 
come  a  very  great  and  useful  man  merely  by  making 
pictures. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  227 

One  evening,  shortly  after  Mr.  Pennington's  return  to 
Philadelphia,  a  package  arrived  at  Springfield,  directed 
to  our  little  friend  Ben. 

"  What  can  it  possibly  be  ?  "  thought  Ben,  when  it 
was  pat  into  his  hands.  "  Who  can  have  sent  me  such  a 
great  square  package  as  this  ?  " 

On  taking  off  the  thick  brown  paper  which  enveloped 
it,  behold !  there  was  a  paint-box,  with  a  great  many 
cakes  of  paint,  and  brushes  of  various  sizes.  It  was  the 
gift  of  good  Mr.  Pennington.  There  were  likewise  sev 
eral  squares  of  canvas  such  as  artists  use  for  painting 
pictures  upon,  and,  in  addition  to  all  these  treasures, 
some  beautiful  engravings  of  landscapes.  These  were 
the  first  pictures  that  Ben  had  ever  seen,  except  those  of 
his  own  drawing. 

What  a  joyful  evening  was  this  for  the  little  artist ! 
At  bedtime  he  put  the  paint-box  under  his  pillow,  and 
got  hardly  a  wink  of  sleep  ;  for,  all  night  long,  his  fancy 
was  painting  pictures  in  the  darkness.  In  the  morning 
he  hurried  to  the  garret,  and  was  seen  no  more  till  the 
dinner-hour ;  nor  did  he  give  himself  time  to  eat  more 
than  a  mouthful  or  two  of  food  before  he  hurried  back  to 
the  garret  again.  The  next  day,  and  the  next,  he  was 
just  as  busy  as  ever;  until  at  last  his  mother  thought  it 
time  to  ascertain  what  he  was  about.  She  accordingly 
followed  him  to  the  garret. 

On  opening  the  door,  the  first  object  that  presented 
itself  to  her  eyes  was  our  friend  Benjamin,  giving  the  last 
touches  to  a  beautiful  picture.  He  had  copied  portions 
of  two  of  the  engravings,  and  made  one  picture  out  of 
both,  with  such  admirable  skill  that  it  was  far  more  beau 
tiful  than  the  originals.  The  grass,  the  trees,  the  water, 
the  sky,  and  the  houses  were  all  painted  in  their  proper 
colors.  There,  too,  were  the  sunshine  and  the  shadow, 
looking  as  natural  as  life. 


228  BIOGRAPHICAL    STO1UES. 

"  My  dear  child,  tliou  hast  done  wondors  !  "  cried  bis 
mother. 

The  good  lady  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  And  well 
might  she  be  proud  of  her  boy;  for  there  were  touches 
in  this  picture  which  old  artists,  who  had  spent  a  lifetime 
in  the  business,  need  not  have  been  ashamed  of.  Many 
a  year  afterwards,  this  wonderful  production  was  exhib 
ited  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  London. 

When  Benjamin  was  quite  a  large  lad  he  was  sent  to 
school  at  Philadelphia.  Not  long  after  his  arrival  he  had 
a  slight  attack  of  fever,  which  confined  him  to  his  bed. 
The  light,  which  would  otherwise  have  disturbed  him, 
was  excluded  from  his  chamber  by  means  of  closed 
wooden  shutters.  At  first  it  appeared  so  totally  dark 
that  Ben  could  not  distinguish  any  object  in  the  room. 
By  degrees,  however,  his  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
scanty  light. 

He  was  lying  on  his  back,  looking  up  towards  the  ceil 
ing,  when  suddenly  he  beheld  the  dim  apparition  of  a 
white  cow  moving  slowly  over  his  head !  Ben  started, 
and  rubbed  his  eyes  in  the  greatest  amazement. 

"  What  can  this  mean  ?  "  thought  he. 

The  white  cow  disappeared  ;  and  next  came  several 
pigs,  which  trotted  along  the  ceiling  and  vanished  into 
the  darkness  of  the  chamber.  So  lifelike  did  these  grunt- 
ers  look  that  Ben  almost  seemed  to  hear  them  squeak. 

"  Well,  this  is  very  strange  !  "  said  Ben  to  himself. 

When  the  people  of  the  house  came  to  see  him,  Benja 
min  told  them  of  the  marvellous  circumstance  which  had 
occurred.  But  they  would  not  believe  him. 

"  Benjamin,  thou  art  surely  out  of  thy  senses  !  "  cried 
they.  "  How  is  it  possible  that  a  white  cow  and  a  litter 
of  pigs  should  be  visible  on  the  'ceiling  of  a  dark  cham 
ber?" 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  229 

Ben,  however,  had  great  confidence  in  his  own  eye 
sight,  and  was  determined  to  search  the  mystery  to  the 
bottom.  Eor  this  purpose,  when  he  was  again  left  alone, 
he  got  out  of  bed  and  examined  the  window-shutters. 
He  soon  perceived  a  small  chink  in  one  of  them,  through 
which  a  ray  of  light  found  its  passage  and  rested  upon 
the  ceiling.  Now,  the  science  of  optics  will  inform  us 
that  the  pictures  of  the  white  cow  and  the  pigs,  and  of 
other  objects  out  of  doors,  came  into  the  dark  chamber 
through  this  narrow  chink,  and  were  painted  over  Benja 
min's  head.  It  is  greatly  to  his  credit  that  he  discovered 
the  scientific  principle  of  this  phenomenon,  and  by  means 
of  it  constructed  a  camera-obscura,  or  magic -lantern,  out 
of  a  hollow  box.  This  was  of  great  advantage  to  him  in 
drawing  landscapes. 

Well,  time  went  on,  and  Benjamin  continued  to  draw 
and  paint  pictures  until  he  had  now  reached  the  age 
when  it  was  proper  that  he  should  choose  a  business  for 
life.  His  father  and  mother  were  in  considerable  per 
plexity  about  him.  According  to  the  ideas  of  the  Qua 
kers,  it  is  not  right  for  people  to  spend  their  lives  in  oc 
cupations  that  are  of  no  real  and  sensible  advantage  to 
the  world.  Now,  what  advantage  could  the  world  expect 
from  Benjamin's  pictures  ?  This  was  a  difficult  ques 
tion  ;  and,  in  order  to  set  their  minds  at  rest,  his  parents 
determined  to  consult  the  preachers  and  wise  men  of 
their  society.  Accordingly,  they  all  assembled  in  the 
meeting-house,  and  discussed  the  matter  from  beginning 
to  end. 

Finally  they  came  to  a  very  wise  decision.  It  seemed 
so  evident  that  Providence  had  created  Benjamin  to  be 
a  painter,  and  had  given  him  abilities  which  would  be 
thrown  away  in  any  other  business,  that  the  Quakers 
resolved  not  to  oppose  his  inclination.  They  even  ac- 


230  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

knowledged  that  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  picture  might 
convey  instruction  to  the  mind  and  might  benefit  the 
heart  as  much  as  a  good  book  or  a  wise  discourse.  They 
therefore  committed  the  youth  to  the  direction  of  God, 
being  well  assured  that  he  best  knew  what  was  his  proper 
sphere  of  usefulness.  The  old  men  laid  their  hands  upon 
Benjamin's  head  and  gave  him  their  blessing,  and  the 
women  kissed  him  affectionately.  All  consented  that  he 
should  go  forth  into  the  world  and  learn  to  be  a  painter 
by  studying  the  best  pictures  of  ancient  and  modern 
times. 

So  our  friend  Benjamin  left  the  dwelling  of  his  parents, 
and  his  native  woods  and  streams,  and  the  good  Quakers 
of  Springfield,  and  the  Indians  who  had  given  him  his 
first  colors  ;  he  left  all  the  places  and  persons  whom  he 
had  hitherto  known,  and  returned  to  them  no  more.  He 
went  first  to  Philadelphia,  and  afterwards  to  Europe. 
Here  he  was  noticed  by  many  great  people,  but  retained 
all  the  sobriety  and  simplicity  which  he  had  learned  among 
the  Quakers.  It  is  related  of  him,  that,  when  he  was 
presented  at  the  court  of  the  Prince  of  Parma,  he  kept  his 
hat  upon  his  head  even  while  kissing  the  Prince's  hand. 

When  he  was  twenty-five  years  old  he  went  to  London 
and  established  himself  there  as  an  artist.  In  due  course 
of  time  he  acquired  great  fame  by  his  pictures,  and  was 
made  chief  painter  to  King  George  III.  and  president  of 
the  Royal  Academy  of  Arts.  When  the  Quakers  of 
Pennsylvania  heard  of  his  success,  they  felt  that  the 
prophecy  of  the  old  preacher  as  to  little  Ben's  future 
eminence  was  now  accomplished.  It  is  true,  they  shook 
their  heads  at  his  pictures  of  battle  and  bloodshed,  such 
as  the  Death  of  Wolfe,  thinking  that  these  terrible  scenes 
should  not  be  held  up  to  the  admiration  of  the  world. 

But  they  approved  of  the  great  paintings  in  which  he 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  231 

represented  the  miracles  and  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer 
of  mankind.  King  George  employed  him  to  adorn  a 
large  and  beautiful  chapel  at  Windsor  Castle  with  pic 
tures  of  these  sacred  subjects.  He  likewise  painted  a 
magnificent  picture  of  Christ  Healing  the  Sick,  which  he 
gave  to  the  hospital  at  Philadelphia.  It  was  exhibited 
to  the  public,  and  produced  so  much  profit  that  the 
hospital  was  enlarged  so  as  to  accommodate  thirty  more 
patients.  If  Benjamin  West  had  done  no  other  good 
deed  than  this,  yet  it  would  have  been  enough  <fro  en 
title  him  to  an  honorable  remembrance  forever.  At  this 
very  day  there  are  thirty  poor  people  in  the  hospital 
who  owe  all  their  comforts  to  that  same  picture. 

We  shall  mention  only  a  single  incident  more.  The 
picture  of  Christ  Healing  the  Sick  was  exhibited  at  the 
Royal  Academy  in  London,  where  it  covered  a  vast  space 
and  displayed  a  multitude  of  figures  as  large  as  life.  On 
the  wall,  close  beside  this  admirable  picture,  hung  a 
small  and  faded  landscape.  It  was  the  same  that  little 
Ben  had  painted  in  his  father's  garret,  after  receiving  the 
paint-box  and  engravings  from  good  Mr.  Pennington. 

He  lived  many  years  in  peace  and  honor,  and  died  in 
1820,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  The  story  of  his  life  is 
almost  as  wonderful  as  a  fairy  tale ;  for  there  are  few 
stranger  transformations  than  that  of  a  little  unknown 
Quaker  boy,  in  the  wilds  of  America,  into  the  most  dis 
tinguished  English  painter  of  his  day.  Let  us  each  make 
the  best  use  of  our  natural  abilities  as  Benjamin  West 
did ;  and,  with  the  blessing  of  Providence,  we  shall 
arrive  at  some  good  end.  As  for  fame,  it  is  but  little 
matter  whether  we  acquire  it  or  not. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  story,  my  dear  father,"  said  Ed 
ward,  when  it  was  finished.  "  Do  you  know  that  it 


232  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

seems  as  if  I  could  see  tilings  without  the  help  of  my 
eyes  ?  While  you  were  speaking  I  have  seen  little 
Ben,  and  the  baby  in  its  cradle,  and  the  Indians,  and  the 
white  cow,  and  the  pigs,  and  kind  Mr.  Pennington,  and 
all  the  good  old  Quakers,  almost  as  plainly  as  if  they 
were  in  this  very  room." 

"It  is  because  your  attention  was  not  disturbed  by 
outward  objects,"  replied  Mr.  Temple.  "People,  when 
deprived  of  sight,  often  have  more  vivid  ideas  than  those 
who  possess  the  perfect  use  of  their  eyes.  I  will  venture 
to  say  that  George  has  not  attended  to  the  story  quite  so 
closely." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  George  ;  "  but  it  was  a  very  pretty 
story  for  all  that.  How  I  should  have  laughed  to  see 
Ben  making  a  paint-brush  out  of  the  black  cat's  tail !  I 
intend  to  try  the  experiment  with  Emily's  kitten." 

"  0  no,  no,  George  !  "  cried  Emily,  earnestly.  "  My 
kitten  cannot  spare  her  tail." 

Edward  being  an  invalid,  it  was  now  time  for  him  to 
retire  to  bed.  When  the  family  bade  him  good  night- 
he  turned  his  face  towards  them,  looking  very  loath  to 
part. 

"  I  shall  not  know  when  morning  comes,"  said  he, 
sorrowfully.  "  And  besides,  I  want  to  hear  your  voices 
all  the  time  ;  for,  when  nobody  is  speaking,  it  seems  as  if 
I  were  alone  in  a  dark  world." 

"  You  must  have  faith,  my  dear  child,"  replied  his 
mother.  "Faith  is  the  soul's  eyesight;  and  when  we 
possess  it  the  world  is  never  dark  nor  lonely." 


CHAPTEE  III. 

HE  next  day  Edward  began  to  get  accustomed 
to  his  new  condition  of  life.  Once,  indeed, 
when  his  parents  were  out  of  the  way  and  only 
Emily  was  left  to  take  care  of  him,  he  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  thrust  aside  the  bandage  and  peep  at 
the  anxious  face  of  his  little  nurse.  But,  in  spite  of  the 
dimness  of  the  chamber,  the  experiment  caused  him  so 
much  pain  that  he  felt  no  inclination  to  take  another 
look.  So,  with  a  deep  sigh,  he  resigned  himself  to  his 
fate. 

"  Emily,  pray  talk  to  me  !  "  said  he,  somewhat  impa 
tiently. 

Now,  Emily  was  a  remarkably  silent  little  girl,  and  did 
not  possess  that  liveliness  of  disposition  which  renders 
some  children  such  excellent  companions.  She  seldom 
laughed,  and  had  not  the  faculty  of  making  many  words 
about  small  matters.  But  the  love  and  earnestness  of  her 
heart  taught  her  how  to  amuse  poor  Edward  in  his  dark 
ness.  She  put  her  knitting-work  into  his  hands. 

"  You  must  learn  how  to  knit,"  said  she. 

"  What !  without  using  my  eyes  ?  "  cried  Edward. 

"  I  can  knit  with- my  eyes  shut,"  replied  Emily. 

Then  with  her  own  little  hands  she  guided  Edward's 
fingers  while  he  set  about  this  new  occupation.  So  awk- 


234  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

ward  were  his  first  attempts  that  any  other  little  girl  would 
have  laughed  heartily.  But  Emily  preserved  her  gravity, 
and  showed  the  utmost  patience  in  taking  up  the  innu 
merable  stitches  which  he  let  down.  In  the  course  of 
an  hour  or  two  his  progress  was  quite  encouraging. 

When  evening  came,  Edward  acknowledged  that  the 
day  had  been  far  less  wearisome  than  he  anticipated. 
But  he  was  glad,  nevertheless,  when  his  father  and 
mother,  and  George  and  Emily,  all  took  their  seats 
around  his  chair.  He  put  out  his  hand  to  grasp  each  of 
their  hands,  and  smiled  with  a  very  bright  expression 
upon  his  lips. 

"  Now  I  can  see  you  all  with  my  mind's  eye,"  said  he. 
"  And  now,  father,  pray  tell  us  another  story." 

So  Mr.  Temple  began. 

SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON. 

[BORN  1642.    DIED  1727.] 

On  Christmas  day,  in  the  year  1642,  Isaac  Newton  was 
born  at  the  small  village  of  Woolsthorpe,  in  England. 
Little  did  his  mother  think,  when  she  beheld  her  new 
born  babe,  that  he  was  destined  to  explain  many  matters 
which  had  been  a  mystery  ever  since  the  creation  of  the 
world. 

Isaac's  father  being  dead,  Mrs.  Newton  was  married 
again  to  a  clergyman,  and  went  to  reside  at  North 
Witham.  Her  son  was  left  to  the  care  of  his  good  old 
grandmother,  who  was  very  kind  to  him  and  sent  him  to 
school.  In  his  early  years  Isaac  did  not  appear  to  be  a 
very  bright  scholar,  but  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  his 
ingenuity  in  all  mechanical  occupations.  He  had  a  set 
of  little  tools  and  saws  of  various  sizes  manufactured  by 
himself.  With  the  aid  of  these  Isaac  contrived  to  make 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  235 

many  curious  articles,  at  which  he  worked  with  so  much 
skill  that  he  seemed  to  have  been  born  with  a  saw  or 
chisel  in  hand. 

The  neighbors  looked  with  vast  admiration  at  the 
things  which  Isaac  manufactured.  And  his  old  grand 
mother,  I  suppose,  was  never  weary  of  talking  about 
him. 

"  He  '11  make  a  capital  workman  one  of  these  days," 
she  would  probably  say.  "  No  fear  but  what  Isaac  will 
do  well  in  the  world  and  be  a  rich  man  before  he  dies.31 

It  is  amusing  to  conjecture  what  were  the  anticipa 
tions  of  his  grandmother  and  the  neighbors  about  Isaac's 
future  life.  Some  of  them,  perhaps,  fancied  that  he 
would  make  beautiful  furniture  of  mahogany,  rosewood, 
or  polished  oak,  inlaid  with  ivory  and  ebony,  and  magni 
ficently  gilded.  And  then,  doubtless,  all  the  rich  people 
would  purchase  these  fine  things  to  adorn  their  drawing- 
rooms.  Others  probably  thought  that  little  Isaac  was 
destined  to  be  an  architect,  and  would  build  splendid 
mansions  for  the  nobility  and  gentry,  and  churches  too, 
with  the  tallest  steeples  that  had  ever  been  seen  in  Eng 
land. 

Some  of  his  friends,  no  doubt,  advised  Isaac's  grand 
mother  to  apprentice  him  to  a  clock-maker ;  for,  besides 
his  mechanical  skill,  the  boy  seemed  to  have  a  taste  for 
mathematics,  which  would  be  very  useful  to  him  in  that 
profession.  And  then,  in  due  time,  Isaac  would  set  up 
for  himself,  and  would  manufacture  curious  clocks,  like 
those  that  contain  sets  of  dancing  figures,  which  issue 
from  the  dial-plate  when  the  hour  is  struck  ;  or  like  those 
where  a  ship  sails  across  the  face  of  the  clock,  and  is 
seen  tossing  up  and  down  on  the  waves  as  often  as  the 
pendulum  vibrates. 

Indeed,  there  was  some   ground  for  supposing  that 


236  BIOGRAPHICAL    STOEIES. 

Isaac  would  devote  himself  to  the  manufacture  of  clocks ; 
since  lie  had  already  made  one,  of  a  kind  which  nobody 
had  ever  heard  of  before.  It  was  set  a-going,  not  by 
wheels  and  weights  like  other  clocks,  but  by  the  drop 
ping  of  water.  This  was  an  object  of  great  wonderment 
to  all  the  people  round  about ;  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  there  are  few  boys,  or  men  either,  who  could  con 
trive  to  tell  what  o'clock  it  is  by  means  of  a  bowl  of 
water. 

Besides  the  water-clock,  Isaac  made  a  sundial.  Thus 
his  grandmother  was  never  at  a  loss  to  know  the  hour ; 
for  the  water-clock  would  tell  it  in  the  shade,  and  the  dial 
in  the  sunshine.  The  sundial  is  said  to  be  still  in  exist 
ence  at  Woolsthorpe,  on  the  corner  of  the  house  where 
Isaac  dwelt.  If  so,  it  must  have  marked  the  passage  of 
every  sunny  hour  that  has  elapsed  since  Isaac  Newton 
was  a  boy.  It  marked  all  the  famous  moments  of  his  life ;  it 
marked  the  hour  of  his  death ;  and  still  the  sunshine  creeps 
slowly  over  it,  as  regularly  as  when  Isaac  first  set  it  up. 

Yet  we  must  not  say  that  the  sundial  has  lasted  longer 
than  its  maker ;  for  Isaac  Newton  will  exist  long  after 
the  dial  —  yea,  and  long  after  the  sun  itself  —  shall  have 
crumbled  to  decay. 

Isaac  possessed  a  wonderful  faculty  of  acquiring  knowl 
edge  by  the  simplest  means.  For  instance,  what  method 
do  you  suppose  he  took  to  find  out  the  strength  of  the 
wind  ?  You  will  never  guess  how  the  boy  could  compel 
that  unseen,  inconstant,  and  ungovernable  wonder,  the 
wind,  to  tell  him  the  measure  of  its  strength.  Yet 
nothing  can  be  more  simple.  He  jumped  against  the 
wind ;  and  by  the  length  of  his  jump  he  could  calculate 
the  force  of  a  gentle  breeze,  a  brisk  gale,  or  a  tempest. 
Thus,  even  in  his  boyish  sports,  he  was  continually 
searching  out  the  secrets  of  philosophy. 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  237 

Not  far  from  his  grandmother's  residence  there  was 
a  windmill  which  operated  on  a  new  plan.  Isaac  was  in 
the  habit  of  going  thither  frequently,  and  would  spend 
whole  hours  in  examining  its  various  parts.  While  the 
mill  was  at  rest  he  pried  into  its  internal  machinery. 
When  its  broad  sails  were  set  in  motion  by  the  wind,  he 
watched  the  process  by  which  the  mill-stones  were  made 
to  revolve  and  crush  the  grain  that  was  put  into  the 
hopper.  After  gaining  a  thorough  knowledge  of  its  con 
struction  he  was  observed  to  be  unusually  busy  with  his 
tools. 

It  was  not  long  before  his  grandmother  and  all  the 
neighborhood  knew  what  Isaac  had  been  about.  He  had 
constructed  a  model  of  the  windmill.  Though  not  so 
large,  I  suppose,  as  one  of  the  box  traps  which  boys  set 
to  catch  squirrels,  yet  every  part  of  the  mill  and  its  ma 
chinery  was  complete.  Its  little  sails  were  neatly  made 
of  linen,  and  whirled  round  very  swiftly  when  the  mill 
was  placed  in  a  draught  of  air.  Even  a  puff  of  wind 
from  Isaac's  mouth  or  from  a  pair  of  bellows  was  suffi 
cient  to  set  the  sails  in  motion.  And,  what  was  most 
curious,  if  a  handful  of  grains  of  wheat  were  put  into 
the  little  hopper,  they  would  soon  be  converted  into 
snow-white  flour. 

Isaac's  playmates  were  enchanted  with  his  new  wind 
mill.  They  thought  that  nothing  so  pretty  and  so  won 
derful  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  whole  world. 

"  But,  Isaac,"  said  one  of  them,  "  you  have  forgotten 
one  thing  that  belongs  to  a  mill." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Isaac  ;  for  he  supposed  that, 
from  the  roof  of  the  mill  to  its  foundation,  he  had  forgot 
ten  nothing. 

"  Why,  where  is  the  miller  ?  "  said  his  friend. 

' (  That  is  true,  —  I  must  look  out  for  one,"  said  Isaac ; 


238  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

and  he  set  himself  to  consider  how  the  deficiency  should 
be  supplied. 

He  might  easily  have  made  the  miniature  figure  of  a 
man ;  but  then  it  would  not  have  been  able  to  move 
about  and  perform  the  duties  of  a  miller.  As  Captain 
Lemuel  Gulliver  had  not  yet  discovered  the  island  of 
Lilliput,  Isaac  did  not  know  that  there  were  little  men  in 
the  world  whose  size  was  just  suited  to  his  windmill.  It 
so  happened,  however,  that  a  mouse  had  just  been  caught 
in  the  trap  ;  and,  as  no  other  miller  could  be  found,  Mr. 
Mouse  was  appointed  to  that  important  office.  The  new 
miller  made  a  very  respectable  appearance  in  his  dark- 
gray  coat.  To  be  sure,  he  had  not  a  very  good  character 
for  honesty,  and  was  suspected  of  sometimes  stealing  a 
portion  of  the  grain  which  was  given  him  to  grind.  But 
perhaps  some  two-legged  millers  are  quite  as  dishonest  as 
this  small  quadruped. 

As  Isaac  grew  older,  it  was  found  that  he  had  far  more 
important  matters  in  his  mind  than  the  manufacture  of 
toys  like  the  little  windmill.  All  day  long,  if  left  to 
himself,  he  was  either  absorbed  in  thought  or  engaged  in 
some  book  of  mathematics  or  natural  philosophy.  At 
night,  I  think  it  probable,  he  looked  up  with  reverential 
curiosity  to  the  stars,  and  wondered  whether  they  were 
worlds  like  our  own,  and  how  great  was  their  distance 
from  the  earth,  and  what  was  the  power  that  kept  them 
in  their  courses.  Perhaps,  even  so  early  in  life,  Isaac 
Newton  felt  a  presentiment  that  he  should  be  able,  here 
after,  to  answer  all  these  questions. 

When  Isaac  was  fourteen  years  old,  his  mother's  sec 
ond  husband  being  now  dead,  she  wished  her  son  to  leave 
school  and  assist  her  in  managing  the  farm  at  Wools- 
thorpe.  For  a  year  or  two,  therefore,  he  tried  to  turn 
his  attention  to  farming.  But  his  mind  was  so  bent  on 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  239 

becoming  a  scholar  that  his  mother  sent  him  back  to 
school,  and  afterwards  to  the  University  of  Cambridge. 

I  have  now  finished  my  anecdotes  of  Isaac  Newton's 
boyhood.  My  story  would  be  far  too  long  were  I  to 
mention  all  the  splendid  discoveries  which  he  made  after 
he  came  to  be  a  man.  He  was  the  first  that  found  out 
the  nature  of  light ;  for,  before  his  day,  nobody  could  tell 
what  the  sunshine  was  composed  of.  You  remember,  1  sup 
pose,  the  story  of  an  apple's  falling  on  his  head,  and  thus 
leading  him  to  discover  the  force  of  gravitation,  which 
keeps  the  heavenly  bodies  in  their  courses.  When  he 
had  once  got  hold  of  this  idea,  he  never  permitted  his 
mind  to  rest  until  he  had  searched  out  all  the  laws  by 
which  the  planets  are  guided  through  the  sky.  This  he 
did  as  thoroughly  as  if  he  had  gone  up  among  the  stars 
and  tracked  them  in  their  orbits.  The  boy  had  found 
out  the  mechanism  of  a  windmill ;  the  man  explained  to 
his  fellow-men  the  mechanism  of  the  universe. 

While  making  these  researches  he  was  accustomed  to 
spend  night-  after  night  in  a  lofty  tower,  gazing  at  the 
heavenly  bodies  through  a  telescope.  His  mind  was 
lifted  far  above  the  things  of  this  world.  He  may  be 
said,  indeed,  to  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in 
worlds  that  lie  thousands  and  millions  of  miles  away ;  for 
where  the  thoughts  and  the  heart  are,  there  is  our  true 
existence. 

Did  you  never  hear  the  story  of  Newton  and  his  little 
dog  Diamond?  One  day,  when  he  was  fifty. years  old, 
and  had  been  hard  at  work  more  than  twenty  years 
studying  the  theory  of  light,  he  went  out  of  his  chamber, 
leaving  his  little  dog  asleep  before  the  fire.  On  the 
table  lay  a  heap  of  manuscript  papers,  containing  all  the 
discoveries  which  Newton  had  made  during  those  twenty 
years.  When  his  master  was  gone,  up  rose  little  Dia- 


240  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

mond,  jumped  upon  the  table,  and  overthrew  the  lighted 
candle.  The  papers  immediately  caught  fire. 

Just  as  the  destruction  was  completed  Newton  opened 
the  chamber  door,  and  perceived  that  the  labors  of 
twenty  years  were  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes.  There 
stood  little  Diamond,  the  author  of  all  the  mischief.  Al 
most  any  other  man  would  have  sentenced  the  dog  to 
immediate  death.  But  Newton  patted  him  on  the  head 
with  his  usual  kindness,  although  grief  was  at  his  heart. 

"  O  Diamond,  Diamond,"  exclaimed  he,  "  thou  little 
knowest  the  mischief  thou  hast  done  !  " 

This  incident  affected  his  health  and  spirits  for  some 
time  afterwards  ;  but,  from  his  conduct  towards  the  little 
dog,  you  may  judge  what  was  the  sweetness  of  his  temper. 

Newton  lived  to  be  a  very  old  man,  and  acquired  great 
renown,  and  was  made  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  re 
ceived  the  honor  of  knighthood  from  the  king.  But  he 
cared  little  for  earthly  fame  and  honors,  and  felt  no  pride 
in  the  vastness  of  his  knowledge.  All  that  he  had  learned 
only  made  him  feel  how  little  he  knew  in  comparison  to 
what  remained  to  be  known. 

"I  seem  to  myself  like  a  child,"  observed  he,  "playing 
on  the  sea-shore,  and  picking  up  here  and  there  a  curious 
shell  or  a  pretty  pebble,  while  the  boundless  ocean  of 
Truth  lies  undiscovered  before  me." 

At  last,  in  1727,  when  he  was  fourscore  and  five  years 
old,  Sir  Isaac  Newton  died,  —  or  rather,  he  ceased  to 
live  on  earth.  We  may  be  permitted  to  believe  that  he 
is  still  searching  out  the  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
the  Creator  as  earnestly,  and  witli  even  more  success, 
than  while  his  spirit  animated  a  mortal  body.  He  has 
left  a  fame  behind  him  which  will  be  as  endurable  as  if 
his  name  were  written  in  letters  of  light  formed  by  the 
stars  upon  the  midnight  sky. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STO1UES.  241 

<f  I  love  to  hear  about  mechanical  contrivances,  such 
as  the  water-clock  and  the  little  windmill/'  remarked 
George.  "  I  suppose,  if  Sir  Isaac  Newton  had  only 
thought  of  it,  he  might  have  found  out  the  steam-engine, 
and  railroads,  and  all  the  other  famous  inventions  that 
have  come  into  use  since  his  day.3' 

"Very  possibly  he  might,"  replied  Mr.  Temple;  "and 
no  doubt  a  great  many  people  would  think  it  more  useful 
to  manufacture  steam-engines  than  to  search  out  the  sys 
tem  of  the  universe.  Other  great  astronomers  besides 
Newton  have  been  endowed  with  mechanical  genius. 
There  was  David  Rittenhouse,  an  American,  —  he  made 
a  perfect  little  water-mill  when  he  was  only  seven  or 
eight  years  old.  But  this  sort  of  ingenuity  is  but  a  mere 
trifle  in  comparison  with  the  other  talents  of  such  men." 

"  It  must  have  deen  beautiful,"  said  Edward,  "  to 
spend  whole  nights  in  a  high  tower  as  Newton  did, 
gazing  at  the  stars,  and  the  comets,  and  the  meteors. 
But  what  would  Newton  have  done  had  he  been  blind  ? 
or  if  his  eyes  had  been  no  better  than  mine  ?  " 

"  Why,  even  then,  my  dear  child,"  observed  Mrs. 
Temple,  "  he  would  have  found  out  some  way  of  enlight 
ening  his  mind  and  of  elevating  his  soul.  But  come ; 
little  Emily  is  waiting  to  bid  you  good  night.  You  must 
go  to  sleep  and  dream  of  seeing  all  our  faces." 

"  But  how  sad  it  will  be  when  I  awake  !  "  murmured 
Edward. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


N  the  course  of  the  next  day  the  harmony  of  our 
little  family  was  disturbed  by  something  like  a 
quarrel  between  George  and  Edward. 

The  former,  though  he  loved  his  brother  dearly,  had 
found  it  quite  too  great  a  sacrifice  of  his  own  enjoyments 
to  spend  all  his  play-time  in  a  darkened  chamber.  Ed 
ward,  on  the  other  hand,  was  inclined  to  be  despotic. 
He  felt  as  if  his  bandaged  eyes  entitled  him  to  demand 
that  everybody  who  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  sight  should 
contribute  to  his  comfort  and  amusement.  He  therefore 
insisted  that  George,  instead  of  going  out  to  play  at  foot 
ball,  should  join  with  himself  and  Emily  in  a  game  of 
questions  and  answers. 

George  resolutely  refused,  and  ran  out  of  the  house. 
He  did  not  revisit  Edward's  chamber  till  the  evening, 
when  he  stole  in,  looking  confused,  yet  somewhat  sullen, 
and  sat  down  beside  his  father's  chair.  It  was  evident, 
by  a  motion  of  Edward's  head  and  a  slight  trembling  of 
his  lips,  that  he  was  aware  of  George's  entrance,  though 
his  footsteps  had  been  almost  inaudible.  Emily,  with  her 
serious  and  earnest  little  face,  looked  from  one  to  the 
other,  as  if  she  longed  to  be  a  messenger  of  peace  be 
tween  them. 

Mr.  Temple,  without  seeming  to  notice  any  of  these 
circumstances,  began  a  story. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  243 

SAMUEL   JOHNSON. 

[BORN  1709.    DIED  1784.] 

<c  Sam/'  said  Mr.  Michael  Johnson,  of  Lichfield,  one 
morning,  "  I  am  very  feeble  and  ailing  to-day.  You 
must  go  to  Uttoxeter  in  my  stead,  and  tend  the  book 
stall  in  the  market-place  there." 

This  was  spoken  above  a  hundred  years  ago,  by  an 
elderly  man,  who  had  once  been  a  thriving  bookseller 
at  Lichfield,  in  England.  Being  now  in  reduced  circum 
stances,  he  was  forced  to  go  every  market-day  and  sell 
books  at  a  stall,  in  the  neighboring  village  of  Uttoxeter. 

His  son,  to  whom  Mr.  Johnson  spoke,  was  a  great  boy, 
of  very  singular  aspect.  He  had  an  intelligent  face  ;  but 
it  was  seamed  and  distorted  by  a  scrofulous  humor,  which 
affected  his:  eyes  so  badly  that  sometimes  he  was  almost 
blind.  Owing  to  the  same  cause  his  head  would  often 
shake  with  a  tremulous  motion  as  if  he  were  afflicted 
with  the  palsy.  When  Sam  was  an  infant,  the  famous 
Queen  Anne  had  tried  to  cure  him  of  this  disease  by  lay 
ing  her  royal  hands  upon  his  head.  But  though  the 
touch  of  a  king  or  queen  was  supposed  to  be  a  certain 
remedy  for  scrofula,  it  produced'  no  good  effect  upon 
Sam  Johnson. 

At  the  time  which  we  speak  of  the  poor  lad  was  not 
very  well  dressed,  and  wore  shoes  from  which  his  toes 
peeped  out ;  for  his  old  father  had  barely  the  means  of 
supporting  his  wife  and  children.  But,  poor  as  the 
family  were,  young  Sam  Johnson  had  as  much  pride  as 
any  nobleman's  son  in  England.  The  fact  was,  lie  felt 
conscious  of  uncommon  sense  and  abilit}r,  which,  in  his 
own  opinion,  entitled  him  to  great  respect  from  the 
world.  Perhaps  he  would  have  been  glad  if  grown  peo 
ple  had  treated  him  as  reverentially  as  his  schoolfellows 


244  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

did.  Three  of  them  were  accustomed  to  come  for  him 
every  morning ;  and  while  he  sat  upon  the  back  of  one, 
the  two  others  supported  him  on  each  side;  and  thus 
he  rode  to  school  in  triumph. 

Being  a  personage  of  so  much  importance,  Sam  could 
not  bear  the  idea  of  standing  all  day  in  Uttoxeter  mar 
ket  offering  books  to  the  rude  and  ignorant  country 
people.  Doubtless  he  felt  the  more  reluctant  on  account 
of  his  shabby  clothes,  and  the  disorder  of  his  eyes,  and 
the  tremulous  motion  of  his  head. 

When  Mr.  Michael  Johnson  spoke,  Sam  pouted  and 
made  an  indistinct  grumbling  in  his  throat ;  then  he 
looked  his  old  father  in  the  face  and  answered  him 
loudly  and  deliberately. 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  will  not  go  to  Uttoxeter  market !  " 

Mr.  Johnson  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  the, : lad's  obsti 
nacy  ever  since  his  birth  ;  and  while  Sam  was  younger, 
the  old  gentleman  had  probably  used  the  rod  whenever 
occasion  seemed  to  require.  But  he  was  now  too  feeble 
and  too  much  out  of  spirits  to  contend  wilh  this  stub 
born  and  violent-tempered  boy.  He  therefore  gave  up 
the  point  at  once,  and  prepared  to  go  to  Uttoxeter 
himself. 

"  Well,  Sam,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  as  he  took  his  hat 
and  staff,  "  if  for  the  sake  of  your  foolish  pride  you  can 
suffer  your  poor  sick  father  to  stand  all  day  in  the  noise 
and  confusion  of  the  market  when  he  ought  to  be  in  his 
bed,  I  have  no  more  to  say.  But  you  will  think  of  this, 
Sam,  when  I  am  dead  and  gone." 

So  the  poor  old.  man  (perhaps  with  a  tear  in  his  eye, 
but  certainly  with  sorrow  in  his  heart)  set  forth  towards 
Uttoxeter.  The  gray-haired,  feeble,  melancholy  Michael 
Johnson !  How  sad  a  thing  it  was  that  he  should  be 
forced  to  go,  in  his  sickness,  and  toil  for  the  support  of 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  245 

an  ungrateful  son  who  was  too  proud  to  do  anything  for 
his  father,  or  his  mother,  or  himself!  Sam  looked  after 
Mr.  Johnson  with  a  sullen  countenance  till  he  was  out 
of  sight. 

But  when  the  old  man's  figure,  as  he  went  stooping 
along  the  street,  was  no  more  to  be  seen,  the  boy's  heart 
began  to  smite  him.  He  had  a  vivid  imagination,  and  it 
tormented  him  with  the  image  of  his  father  standing  in 
the  market-place  of  Uttoxeter  and  offering  his  books  to 
the  noisy  crowd  around  him.  Sam  seemed  to  behold 
him  arranging  his  literary  merchandise  upon  the  stall 
in  such  a  way  as  was  best  calculated  to  attract  notice. 
Here  was  Addison's  Spectator,  a  long  row  of  little  vol 
umes;  here  was  Pope's  translation  of  the  Iliad  and 
Odyssey ;  here  were  Dryden's  poems,  or  those  of  Prior. 
Here,  likewise,  were  Gulliver's  Travels,  and  a  variety  of 
little  gilt-covered  children's  books,  such  as  Tom  Thumb, 
Jack  the  Giant  Queller,  Mother  Goose's  Melodies,  and 
others  which  our  great-grandparents  used  to  read  in 
their  childhood.  And  here  were  sermons  for  the  pious, 
and  pamphlets  for  the  politicians,  and  ballads,  some  merry 
and  some  dismal  ones,  for  the  country  people  to  sing. 

Sam,  in  imagination,  saw  his  father  offer  these  books, 
pamphlets,  and  ballads,  now  to  the  rude  yeomen  who 
perhaps  could  not  read  a  word ;  now  to  the  country 
squires,  who  cared  for  nothing  but  to  hunt  hares  and 
foxes;  now  to  the  children,  who  chose  to  spend  their 
coppers  for  sugar-plums  or  gingerbread  rather  than  for 
picture-books.  And  if  Mr.  Johnson  should  ^ell  a  book 
to  man,  woman,  or  child,  it  would  cost  him  an  hour's  talk 
to  get  a  profit  of  only  sixpence. 

"My  poor  father  !  "  thought  Sam  to  himself.  "How 
his  head  will  ache  !  and  how  heavy  his  heart  will  be  !  I 
am  almost  sorry  that  I  did  not  do  as  he  bade  me." 


246  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

Then  the  boy  went  to  his  mother,  who  was  busy  about 
the  house.  She  did  not  know  of  what  had  passed  be 
tween  Mr.  Johnson  and  Sam. 

"Mother,"  said  he,  "did  you  think  father  seemed  very 
ill  to-day  ?  " 

"Yes,  Sam,"  answered  his  mother,  turning  with  a 
flushed  face  from  the  fire,  where  she  was  cooking  their 
scanty  dinner.  "  Your  father  did  look  very  ill ;  and  it  is  a 
pity  he  did  not  send  you  to  Uttoxeter  in  his  stead.  You 
are  a  great  boy  now,  and  would  rejoice,  1  am  sure,  to  do 
something  for  your  poor  father,  who  has  done  so  much 
for  you." 

The  lad  made  no  reply.  But  again  his  imagination  set 
to  work  and  conjured  up  another  picture  of  poor  Michael 
Johnson.  He  was  standing  in  the  hot  sunshine  of  the 
market-place,  and  looking  so  weary,  sick,  and  disconso 
late,  that  the  eyes  of  all  the  crowd  were  drawn  to  him. 
"  Had  this  old  man  no  son,"  the  people  would  say  among 
themselves,  "  who  might  have  taken  his  place  at  the  book 
stall  while  the  father  kept  his  bed  ?  "  And  perhaps, — 
but  this  was  a  terrible  thought  for  Sam! — perhaps  his 
father  would  faint  away  and  fall  down  in  the  market 
place,  with  his  gray  hair  in  the  dust  and  his  venerable 
face  as  deathlike  as  that  of  a  corpse.  And  there  would 
be  the  bystanders  gazing  earnestly  at  Mr.  Johnson  and 
whispering,  "  Is  he  dead  ?  Is  he  dead  ?  " 

And  Sain  shuddered  as  he  repeated  to  himself,  "  Is  he 
dead?" 

"  0,  I  have  been  a  cruel  son !  "  thought  he,  within  his 
own  heart.  "  God  forgive  me  !  God  forgive  me  !  " 

But  God  could  not  yet  forgive  him ;  for  he  was  not 
truly  penitent.  Had  he  been  so,  he  would  have  hastened 
away  that  very  moment  to  Uttoxeter,  and  have  fallen  at 
his  father's  feet,  even  in  the  midst  of  the  crowded  mar- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  247 

ket-place.  There  he  would  Lave  confessed  Ills  fault,  and 
besought  Mr.  Johnson  to  go  home  and  leave  the  rest  of 
the  day's  work  to  him.  But  such  was  Sam's  pride  and 
natural  stubbornness  that  he  could  not  bring  himself  to 
this  humiliation.  Yet  he  ought  to  have  done  so,  for  his 
own  sake,  for  his  father's  sake,  and  for  God's  sake. 

After  sunset  old  Michael  Johnson  came  slowly  home 
and  sat  down  in  his  customary  chair.  He  said  nothing 
to  Sam ;  nor  do  I  know  that  a  single  word  ever  passed 
between  them  on  the  subject  of  the  son's  disobedience. 
In  a  few  years  his  father  died,  and  left  Sam  to  fight  his 
way  through  the  world  by  himself.  It  would  make  our 
story  much  too  long  were  I  to  tell  you  even  a  few  of  the 
remarkable  events  of  Sam's  life.  Moreover,  there  is  the 
less  need  of  this,  because  many  books  have  been  written 
about  that  poor  boy,  and  the  fame  that  he  acquired,  and  all 
that  he  did  or  talked  of  doing  after  he  came  to  be  a  man. 

But  one  thing  I  must  not  neglect  to  say.  From 
his  boyhood  upward  until  the  latest  day  of  his  life  he 
never  forgot  the  story  of  Uttoxeter  market.  Often 
when  he  was  a  scholar  of  the  University  of  Oxford,  or 
master  of  an  academy  at  Edial,  or  a  writer  for  the  Lon 
don  booksellers,  —  in  all  his  poverty  and  toil  and  in  all 
his  success,  —  while  he  was  walking  the  streets  without 
a  shilling  to  buy  food,  or  when  the  greatest  men  of  Eng 
land  were  proud  to  feast  him  at  their  table,  —  still  that 
heavy  and  remorseful  thought  came  back  to  him,  "  I  was 
cruel  to  my  poor  father  in  his  illness  !  "  Many  and  many 
a  time,  awake  or  in  his  dreams,  he  seemed  to  see  old 
Michael  Johnson  standing  in  the  dust  and  confusion  of 
the  market-place  and  pressing  his  withered  hand  to  his 
forehead  as  if  it  ached. 

Alas  !  my  dear  children,  it  is  a  sad  thing  to  have  such 
a  thought  as  this  to  bear  us  company  through  life. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

Though  the  story  was  but  half  finished,  yet,  as  it  was 
longer  than  usual,  Mr.  Temple  here  made  a  short  pause. 
He  perceived  that  Emily  was  in  tears,  and  Edward 
turned  his  half-veiled  face  towards  the  speaker  with  an 
air  of  great  earnestness  and  interest.  As  for  George,  he 
had  withdrawn  into  the  dusky  shadow  behind  his  father's 
chair. 


CHAPTER   V. 

N  a  few  moments  Mr.  Temple  resumed  tlie  sto 
ry,  as  follows :  — 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 

[CONTINUED.] 

Well,  my  children,  fifty  years  bad  passed  away  since 
young  Sam  Johnson  had  shown  himself  so  hard-hearted 
towards  his  father.  It  was  now  market-day  in  the  village 
of  Uttoxeter. 

In  the  street  of  the  village  yon  might  see  cattle-dealers 
with  cows  and  oxen  for  sale,  and  pig-drovers  with  herds 
of  squeaking  swine,  and  farmers  with  cartloads  of  cab 
bages,  turnips,  onions,  and  all  other  produce  of  the  soil. 
Now  and  then  a  farmers  red-faced  wife  trotted  along  on 
horseback,  with  butter  and  cheese  in  two  large  panniers. 
The  people  of  the  village,  with  country  squires,  and  other 
visitors  from  the  neighborhood,  walked  hither  and  thither, 
trading,  jesting,  quarrelling,  and  making  just  such  a  bus 
tle  as  their  fathers  and  grandfathers  had  made  half  a 
century  before. 

In  one  part  of  the  street  there  was  a  puppet-show, 
with  a  ridiculous  merry-andrew,  who  kept  both  grown 
people  and  children  in  a  roar  of  laughter.  On  the  op- 


250  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

posite  side  was  the  old  stone  church  of  Uttoxeter,  with 
ivy  climbing  up  its  walls  and  partly  obscuring  its  Gothic 
windows. 

There  was  a  clock  in  tl*e  gray  tower  of  the  ancient 
church,  and  the  hands  on  the  dial-plate  had  now  almost 
reached  the  hour  of  noon.  At  this  busiest  hour  of  the 
market  a  strange  old  gentleman  was  seen  making  his  way 
among  the  crowd.  He  was  very  tall  and  bulky,  and 
wore  a  brown  coat  and  small-clothes,  with  black  worsted 
stockings  and  buckled  shoes.  On  his  head  was  a  three- 
cornered  hat,  beneath  which  a  bushy  gray  wig  thrust 
itself  out,  all  in  disorder.  The  old  gentleman  elbowed 
the  people  aside,  and  forced  his  way  through  the  midst  of 
them  with  a  singular  kind  of  gait,  rolling  his  body  hither 
and  thither,  so  that  he  needed  twice  as  much  room  as  any 
other  person  there. 

"Make  way,  sir  !  "  he  would  cry  out,  in  a  loud,  harsh 
voice,  when  somebody  happened  to  interrupt  his  prog 
ress.  "  Sir,  you  intrude  your  person  into  the  public 
thoroughfare  !  " 

"  What  a  queer  old  fellow  this  is  !  "  muttered  the  peo 
ple  among  themselves,  hardly  knowing  whether  to  laugh 
or  to  be  angry. 

But  when  they  looked  into  the  venerable  stranger's 
face,  not  the  most  thoughtless  among  them  dared  to  offer 
him  the  least  impertinence.  Though  his  features  were 
scarred  and  distorted  with  the  scrofula,  and  though  his 
eyes  were  dim  and  bleared,  yet  there  was  something  of 
authority  and  wisdom  in  his  look,  which  impressed  them 
all  with  awe.  So  they  stood  aside  to  let  him  pass ;  and 
the  old  gentleman  made  his  way  across  the  market-place, 
and  paused  near  the  corner  of  the  ivy-mantled  church. 
Just  as  he  reached  it  the  clock  struck  twelve. 

On  the  very  spot  of  ground  where  the  stranger  now 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  251 

stood  some  aged  people  remembered  that  old  Michael 
Johnson  had  formerly  kept  his  book-stall.  The  little 
children  who  had  once  bought  picture-books  of  him  were 
grandfathers  now. 

"  Yes  ;  here  is  the  very  spot !  "  muttered  the  old  gen 
tleman  to  himself. 

There  this  unknown  personage  took  his  stand  and  re 
moved  the  three-cornered  hat  from  his  head.  It  was  the 
busiest  hour  of  the  day.  What  with  the  hum  of  human 
voices,  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the  squeaking  of  pigs,  and 
the  laughter  caused  by  the  merry-andrew,  the  market 
place  was  in  very  great  confusion.  But  the  stranger 
seemed  not  to  notice  it  any  more  than  if  the  silence  of 
a  desert  were  around  him.  He  was  rapt  in  his  own 
thoughts.  Sometimes  he  raised  his  furrowed  brow  to 
heaven,  as  if  in  prayer;  sometimes  he  bent  his  head,  as 
if  an  insupportable  weight  of  sorrow  were  upon  him.  It 
increased  the  awfulness  of  his  aspect  that  there  was  a 
motion  of  his  head  and  an  almost  continual  tremor 
throughout  his  frame,  with  singular  twitchings  and  con 
tortions  of  his  features. 

The  hot  sun  blazed  upon  his  unprotected  head ;  but  he 
seemed  not  to  feel  its  fervor.  A  dark  cloud  swept  across 
the  sky  and  rain-drops  pattered  into  the  market-place ; 
but  the  stranger  heeded  not  the  shower.  The  people  be 
gan  to  gaze  at  the  mysterious  old  gentleman  with  super 
stitious  fear  and  wonder.  Who  could  he  be  ?  Whence 
did  he  come  ?  Wherefore  was  he  standing  bareheaded  in 
the  market-place  ?  Even  the  school-boys  left  the  merry- 
andrew  and  came  to  gaze,  writh  wide-open  eyes,  at  this 
tall,  strange-looking  old  man. 

There  was  a  cattle-drover  in  the  village  who  had 
recently  made  a  journey  to  the  Smithfield  market,  in  Lon 
don.  No  sooner  had  this  man  thrust  his  way  through 


252  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

the  throng  and  taken  a  look  at  the  unknown  personage, 
than  he  whispered  to  one  of  his  acquaintances,  — 

"  I  say,  Neighbor  Hutchins,  would  ye  like  to  know 
who  this  old  gentleman  is  ?  " 

"Ay,  that  I  would,"  replied  Neighbor  Hutchins,  "for 
a  queerer  chap  I  never  saw  in  my  life.  Somehow  it 
makes  me  feel  small  to  look  at  him.  He 's  more  than 
a  common  man." 

"  You  may  well  say  so,"  answered  the  cattle-drover. 
"  Why,  that 's  the  famous  Doctor  Samuel  Johnson,  who 
they  say  is  the  greatest  and  learnedest  man  in  England. 
I  saw  him  in  London  streets,  walking  with  one  Mr.  Bos- 
well." 

Yes ;  the  poor  boy,  the  friendless  Sam,  with  whom  we 
began  our  story,  had  become  the  famous  Doctor  Samuel 
Johnson.  He  was  universally  acknowledged  as  the 
wisest  man  and  greatest  writer  in  all  England.  He  had 
given  shape  and  permanence  to  his  native  language  by 
his  Dictionary.  Thousands  upon  thousands  of  people 
had  read  his  Idler,  his  Rambler,  and  his  Rasselas.  No 
ble  and  wealthy  men  and  beautiful  ladies  deemed  it  their 
highest  privilege  to  be  his  companions.  Even  the  King 
of  Great  Britain  had  sought  his  acquaintance,  and  told 
him  what  an  honor  he  considered  it  that  such  a  man  had 
been  born  in  his  dominions.  He  was  now  at  the  summit 
of  literary  renown. 

But  all  his  fame  could  not  extinguish  the  bitter  remem 
brance  which  had  tormented  him  through  life.  Never, 
never  had  he  forgotten  his  father's  sorrowful  and  upbraid 
ing  look.  Never,  though  the  old  man's  troubles  had  been 
over  so  many  years,  had  he  forgiven  himself  for  inflicting 
such  a  pang  upon  his  heart.  And  now,  in  his  old  age, 
he  had  come  hither  to  do  penance,  by  standing  at  noon 
day,  in  the  market-place  of  Uttoxeter,  on  the  very  spot 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  253 

where  Michael  Johnson  had  once  kept  his  book-stall. 
The  aged  and  illustrious  man  had  done  what  the  poor 
boy  refused  to  do.  By  thus  expressing  his  deep  repent 
ance  and  humiliation  of  heart,  he  hoped  to  gain  peace  of 
conscience  and  the  forgiveness  of  God. 

My  dear  children,  if  you  have  grieved  (I  will  not  say 
your  parents,  but  if  you  have  grieved)  the  heart  of  any 
human  being  who  has  a  claim  upon  your  love,  then  think 
of  Samuel  Johnson's  penance.  Will  it  riot  be  better  to 
redeem  the  error  now  than  to  endure  the  agony  of  re 
morse  for  fifty  years  ?  Would  you  not  rather  say  to  a 
brother,  "  I  have  erred ;  forgive  me  !  "  than  perhaps  to 
go  hereafter  and  shed  bitter  tears  upon  his  grave  ? 

Hardly  was  the  story  concluded  when  George  hastily 
arose,  and  Edward  likewise,  stretching  fort.li  his  hands 
into  the  darkness  that  surrounded  him  to  find  his  brother. 
Both  accused  themselves  of  unkindness :  each  besought 
the  other's  forgiveness  ;  and  having  done  so,  the  trouble 
of  their  hearts  vanished  away  like  a  dream. 

"  I  am  glad  !  I  am  so  glad  !  "  said  Emily,  in  a  low,  ear 
nest  voice.  "Now  I  shall  sleep  quietly  to-night." 

"My  sweet  child,"  thought  Mrs.  Temple  as  she  kissed 
her,  "mayest  thou  never  know  how  much  strife  there  is 
on  earth !  It  would  cost  thee  many  a  night's  rest." 


CHAPTEH    VI. 

|BOUT  this  period  Mr.  Temple  found  it  neces 
sary  to  take  a  journey,  which  interrupted  the 
series  of  Biographical  Stories  for  several  even 
ings.  In  the  interval,  Edward  practised  various  methods 
of  employing  and  amusing  his  mind. 

Sometimes  he  meditated  upon  beautiful  objects  which 
he  had  formerly  seen,  until  the  intensity  of  his  recollec 
tion  seemed  to  restore  him  the  gift  of  sight  and  place 
everything  anew  before  his  eyes.  Sometimes  he  repeated 
verses  of  poetry  which  he  did  not  know  to  be  in  his 
memory  until  he  found  them  there  just  at  the  time  of 
need.  Sometimes  he  attempted  to  solve  arithmetical 
questions  which  had  perplexed  him  while  at  school. 

Then,  with  his  mother's  assistance,  he  learned  the  let 
ters  of  the  string  alphabet,  which  is  used  in  some  of  the 
institutions  for  the  blind  in  Europe.  When  one  of  his 
friends  gave  him  a  leaf  of  St.  Mark's  Gospel,  printed  in 
embossed  characters,  he  endeavored  to  read  it  by  passing 
his  fingers  over  the  letters  as  blind  children  do. 

His  brother  George  was  now  very  kind,  and  spent  so 
much  time  in  the  darkened  chamber  that  Edward  often 
insisted  upon  his  going  out  to  play.  George  told 
him  all  about  the  affairs  at  school,  and  related  many 
amusing  incidents  that  happened  among  his  comrades, 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STOHIES.  255 

and  informed  him  what  sports  were  now  in  fashion,  and 
whose  kite  soared  the  highest,  and  whose  little  ship 
sailed  fleetest  on  the  Prog  Pond.  As  for  Emily,  she  re 
peated  stories  which  she  had  learned  from  a  new  book 
called  THE  PLOWER  PEOPLE,  in  which  the  snowdrops, 
the  violets,  the  columbines,  the  roses,  and  all  that  lovely 
tribe  are  represented  as  telling  their  secrets  to  a  little 
girl.  The  flowers  talked  sweetly,  as  flowers  should  ;  and 
Edward  almost  fancied  that  he  could  behold  their  bloom 
and  smell  their  fragrant  breath. 

Thus,  in  one  way  or  another,  the  dark  days  of  Ed 
ward's  confinement  passed  not  unhappily.  In  due  time 
his  father  returned ;  and  the  next  evening,  when  the 
family  were  assembled,  he  began  a  story. 

"  I  must  first  observe,  children,"  said  he,  "  that  some 
writers  deny  the  truth  of  the  incident  which  I  am  about 
to  relate  to  you.  There  certainly  is  but  little  evidence  in 
favor  of  it.  Other  respectable  writers,  however,  tell  it 
for  a  fact ;  and,  at  all  events,  it  is  an  interesting  story, 
and  has  an  excellent  moral." 

So  Mr.  Temple  proceeded  to  talk  about  the  early 
days  of 

OLIVER   CROMWELL. 

[BORN  1599.    DIED  1658.] 

Not  long  after  King  James  I.  took  the  place  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  on  the  throne  of  England,  there  lived  an  Eng 
lish  knight  at  a  place  called  Hinchinbrooke.  His  name 
was  Sir  Oliver  Cromwell.  He  spent  his  life,  I  suppose, 
pretty  much  like  other  English  knights  and  squires  in 
those  days,  hunting  hares  and  foxes  and  drinking  large 
quantities  of  ale  and  wine.  The  old  house  in  which  he 
dwelt  had  been  occupied  by  his  ancestors  before  him  for 


256  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

a  good  many  years.  In  it  there  was  a  great  hall,  hung 
round  with  coats  of  arms  and  helmets,  cuirasses  and 
swords,  which  his  forefathers  had  used  in  battle,  and 
with  horns  of  deer  and  tails  of  foxes  which  they  or  Sir 
Oliver  himself  had  killed  in  the  chase. 

This  Sir  Oliver  Cromwell  had  a  nephew,  who  had  been 
called  Oliver,  after  himself,  but  who  was  generally  known 
in  the  family  by  the  name  of  little  Noll.  His  father  was 
a  younger  brother  of  Sir  Oliver.  The  child  was  often 
sent  to  visit  his  uncle,  who  probably  found  him  a  trouble 
some  little  fellow  to  take  care  of.  He  was  forever  in 
mischief,  and  always  running  into  some  danger  or  other, 
from  which  he  seemed  to  escape  only  by  miracle. 

Even  while  he  was  an  infant  in  the  cradle  a  strange 
accident  had  befallen  him.  A  huge  ape,  which  was  kept 
in  the  family,  snatched  up  little  Noll  in  his  fore  paws  and 
clambered  with  him  to  the  roof  of  the  house.  There  this 
ugly  beast  sat  grinning  at  the  affrighted  spectators,  as  if 
it  had  done  the  most  praiseworthy  thing  imaginable. 
Fortunately,  however,  he  brought  the  child  safe  down 
again ;  and  the  event  was  afterwards  considered  an  omen 
that  Noll  would  reach  a  very  elevated  station  in  the 
world. 

One  morning,  when  Noll  was  five  or  six  years  old  a 
royal  messenger  arrived  at  Hinchinbrooke  with  tidings 
that  King  James  was  coming  to  dine  with  Sir  Oliver 
Cromwell.  This  was  a  high  honor,  to  be  sure,  but  a  very 
great  trouble ;  for  all  the  lords  and  ladies,  knights, 
squires,  guards  and  yeomen,  who  waited  on  the  king, 
were  to  be  feasted  as  well  as  himself ;  and  more  provis 
ions  would  be  eaten  and  more  wine  drunk  in  that  one 
day  than  generally  in  a  month.  However,  Sir  Oliver 
expressed  much  thankfulness  for  the  king's  intended 
visit,  and  ordered  his  butler  and  cook  to  make  the  best 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  257 

preparations  in  their  power.  So  a  great  fire  was  kindled 
in  the  kitchen;  and  the  neighbors  knew  by  the  smoke 
which  poured  out  of  the  chimney  that  boiling,  baking, 
stewing,  roasting,  and  frying  were  going  on  merrily. 

By  and  by  the  sound  of  trumpets  was  heard  approach 
ing  nearer  and  nearer;  a  heavy,  old-fashioned  coach,  sur 
rounded  by  guards  on  horseback,  drove  up  to  the  house. 
Sir  Oliver,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  stood  at  the  gate  to 
receive  the  king.  His  Majesty  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
green  not  very  new :  he  had  a  feather  in  his  hat  and  a 
triple  ruff  round  his  neck,  and  over  his  shoulder  was 
slung  a  hunting-horn  instead  of  a  sword.  Altogether  he 
had  not  the  most  dignified  aspect  in  the  world  ;  but  the 
spectators  gazed  at  him  as  if  there  was  something  super 
human  and  divine  in  his  person.  They  even  shaded 
their  eyes  with  their  hands,  as  if  they  were  dazzled  by 
the  glory  of  his  countenance. 

"  How  are  ye,  man  ?  "  cried  King  James,  speaking  in 
a  Scotch  accent;  for  Scotland  was  his  native  country. 
"By  my  crown,  Sir  Oliver,  but  I  am  glad  to  see  ye !  " 

The  good  knight  thanked  the  king ;  at  the  same  time 
kneeling  down  while  his  Majesty  alighted.  When  King 
James  stood  on  the  ground,  he  directed  Sir  Oliver's  at 
tention  to  a  little  boy  who  had  come  with  him  in  the 
coach.  He  was  six  or  seven  years  old,  and  wore  a  hat 
and  feather,  and  was  more  richly  dressed  than  the  king 
himself.  Though  by  no  means  an  ill-looking  child,  he 
seemed  shy,  or  even  sulky ;  and  his  cheeks  were  rather 
pale,  as  if  he  had  been  kept  moping  within  doors,  instead 
of  being  sent  out  to  play  in  the  sun  and  wind. 

"  I  have  brought  my  son  Charlie  to  see  ye,"  said  the 
king.  "I  hope,  Sir  Oliver,  ye  have  a  son  of  your  own 
to  be  his  playmate." 

Sir  Oliver  Cromwell  made  a  reverential  bow  to  the 


258  BIOGRAPHICAL    STOHIES. 

little  prince,  whom  one  of  the  attendants  had  now  taken 
out  of  the  coach.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  all  the 
spectators,  even  the  aged  men  with  their  gray  beards, 
humbled  themselves  before  this  child.  They  bent  their 
bodies  till  their  beards  almost  swept  the  dust.  They 
looked  as  if  they  were  ready  to  kneel  down  and  wor 
ship  him. 

The  poor  little  prince  !  From  his  earliest  infancy  not 
a  soul  had  dared  to  contradict  him ;  everybody  around 
him  had  acted  as  if  he  were  a  superior  being ;  so  that, 
of  course,  he  had  imbibed  the  same  opinion  of  himself. 
He  naturally  supposed  that  the  whole  kingdom  of  Great 
Britain  and  all  its  inhabitants  had  been  created  solely  for 
his  benefit  and  amusement.  This  was  a  sad  mistake; 
and  it  cost  him  dear  enough  after  he  had  ascended  his 
father's  throne. 

"  What  a  noble  little  prince  he  is ! "  exclaimed  Sir 
Oliver,  lifting  his  hands  in  admiration.  "  No,  please 
your  Majesty,  I  have  no  son  to  be  the  playmate  of  his 
royal  highness ;  but  there  is  a  nephew  of  mine  some 
where  about  the  house.  He  is  near  the  prince's  age,  and 
will  be  but  too  happy  to  wait  upon  his  royal  highness." 

"  Send  for  him,  man  !  send  for  him  !  "  said  the  king. 

But,  as  it  happened,  there  was  no  need  of  sending  for 
Master  Noll.  While  King  James  was  speaking,  a  rug 
ged,  bold-faced,  sturdy  little  urchin  thrust  himself  through 
the  throng  of  courtiers  and  attendants  and  greeted  the 
prince  with  a  broad  stare.  His  doublet  and  hose  (which 
had  been  put  on  new  and  clean  in  honor  of  the  king's 
visit)  were  already  soiled  and  torn  with  the  rough  play  in 
which  he  had  spent  the  morning.  He  looked  no  more 
abashed  than  if  King  James  were  his  uncle  and  the  prince 
one  of  his  customary  playfellows. 

This  was  little  Noll  himsolf. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  259 

"  Here,  please  your  Majesty,  is  my  nephew,"  said  Sir 
Oliver,  somewhat  ashamed  of  Noll's  appearance  and  de 
meanor.  "  Oliver,  make  your  obeisance  to  the  king's 
majesty." 

The  boy  made  a  pretty  respectful  obeisance  to  the 
king ;  for  in  those  days  children  were  taught  to  pay  rev 
erence  to  their  elders.  King  James,  who  prided  himself 
greatly  on  his  scholarship,  asked  Noll  a  few  questions  in 
the  Latin  grammar,  and  then  introduced  him  to  his  son. 
The  little  prince,  in  a  very  grave  and  dignified  manner, 
extended  his  hand,  not  for  Noll  to  shake,  but  that  he 
might  kneel  down  and  kiss  it. 

"  Nephew,"  said  Sir  Oliver,  "  pay  your  duty  to  the 
prince." 

"  I  owe  him  no  duty,"  cried  Noll,  thrusting  aside  the 
prince's  hand  with  a  rude  laugh.  "  Why  should  I  kiss 
that  boy's  hand?" 

All  the  courtiers  were  amazed  and  confounded,  and  Sir 
Oliver  the  most  of  all.  But  the  king  laughed  heartily, 
saying,  that  little  Noll  had  a  stub'born  English  spirit,  and 
that  it  was  well  for  his  son  to  learn  betimes  what  sort  of 
a  people  he  was  to  rule  over. 

So  King  James  and  his  train  entered  the  house ;  and 
the  prince,  with  Noll  and  some  other  children,  was  sent 
to  play  in  a  separate  room  while  his  Majesty  was  at  din 
ner.  The  young  people  soon  became  acquainted;  for 
boys,  whether  the  sons  of  monarchs  or  of  peasants,  all 
like  play,  and  are  pleased  with  one  another's  society. 
What  games  they  diverted  themselves  with  I  cannot  tell. 
Perhaps  they  played  at  ball,  perhaps  at  blind-man's-buff, 
perhaps  at  leap-frog,  perhaps  at  prison-bars.  Such  games 
have  been  in  use  for  hundreds  of  years ;  and  princes  as 
well  as  poor  children  have  spent  some  of  their  happiest 
hours  in  playing  at  them. 


260  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

Meanwhile  King  James  and  liis  nobles  were  feasting 
with  Sir  Oliver  in  the  great  hall.  The  king  sat  in  a 
gilded  chair,  under  a  canopy,  at  the  head  of  a  long  table. 
Whenever  any  of  the  company  addressed  him,  it  was  with 
the  deepest  reverence.  If  the  attendants  offered  him 
wine  or  the  various  delicacies  of  the  festival,  it  was  upon 
their  bended  knees.  You  would  have  thought,  by  these 
tokens  of  worship,  that  the  monarch  was  a  supernatural 
being;  only  he  seemed  to  have  quite  as  much  need  of 
those  vulgar  matters,  food  and  drink,  as  any  other  person 
at  the  table.  But  fate  had  ordained  that  good  King 
James  should  not  finish  his  dinner  in  peace. 

All  of  a  sudden  there  arose  a  terrible  uproar  in  the 
room  where  the  children  were  at  play.  .  Angry  shouts 
and  shrill  cries  of  alarm  were  mixed  up  together  ;  while 
the  voices  of  elder  persons  were  likewise  heard,  trying  to 
restore  order  among  the  children.  The  king  and  every 
body  else  at  table  looked  aghast ;  for  perhaps  the  tumult 
made  them  think  that  a  general  rebellion  had  broken 
out. 

"Mercy  on  us  !  "  muttered  Sir  Oliver;  "  that  grace 
less  nephew  of  mine  is  in  some  mischief  or  other.  The 
naughty  little  whelp  !  " 

Getting  up  from  table,  he  ran  to  see  what  was  the 
matter,  followed  by  many  of  the  guests,  and  the  king 
among  them.  They  all  crowded  to  the  door  of  the  play 
room. 

On  looking  in,  they  beheld  the  little  Prince  Charles, 
with  his  rich  dress  all  torn  and  covered  with  the  dust  of 
the  floor.  His  royal  blood  was  streaming  from  his  nose 
in  great  abundance.  He  gazed  at  Noll  with  a  mixture 
of  rage  and  affright,  and  at  the  same  time  a  puzzled  ex 
pression,  as  if  he  could  not  understand  how  any  mortal 
boy  should  dare  to  give  him  a  beating.  As  for  Noll, 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  261 

there  stood  his  sturdy  little  figure,  bold  as  a  lion,  looking 
as  if  he  were  ready  to  fight,  not  only  the  prince,  but  the 
king  and  kingdom  too. 

"You  little  villain!"  cried  his  uncle.  "What  have 
you  been  about  ?  Down  on  your  knees,  this  instant, 
and  ask  the  prince's  pardon.  How  dare  you  lay  your 
hands  on  the  king's  majesty's  royal  son?" 

"  He  struck  me  first,"  grumbled  the  valiant  little 
Noll;  "and  I  've  only  given  him  his  due." 

Sir  Oliver  and  the  guests  lifted  up  their  hands  in  as 
tonishment  and  horror.  No  punishment  seemed  severe 
enough  for  this  wicked  little  varlet,  who  had  dared  to 
resent  a  blow  from  the  king's  own  son.  Some  of  the 
courtiers  were  of  opinion  that  Noll  should  be  sent  pris 
oner  to  the  Tower  of  London  and  brought  to  trial  for 
high  treason.  Others,  in  their  great  zeal  for  the  king's 
service,  were  about  to  lay  hands  on  the  boy  and  chastise 
him  in  the  royal  presence. 

But  King  James,  who  sometimes  showed  a  good  deal 
of  sagacity,  ordered  them  to  desist. 

"Thou  art  a  bold  boy,"  said  he,  looking  fixedly  at 
little  Noll ;  "  and,  if  thou  live  to  be  a  man,  my  sou 
Charlie  would  do  wisely  to  be  friends  with  thee." 

"  I  never  will !  "  cried  the  little  prince,  stamping  his 
foot. 

"  Peace,  Charlie,  peace  ! "  said  the  king ;  then  ad 
dressing  Sir  Oliver  and  the  attendants,  "Harm  not  the 
urchin;  for  he  has  taught  my  son  a  good  lesson,  if 
Heaven  do  but  give  him  grace  to  profit  by  it.  Here 
after,  should  he  be  tempted  to  tyrannize  over  the  stub 
born  race  of  Englishmen,  let  him  remember  little  Noll 
Cromwell  and  his  own  bloody  nose." 

So  the  king  finished  his  dinner  and  departed  ;  and  for 
many  a  long  year  the  childish  quarrel  between  Prince 


262  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

Charles  and  Noll  Cromwell  was  forgotten.  The  prince, 
indeed,  might  have  lived  a  happier  life,  and  have  met  a 
more  psaceful  death,  had  he  remembered  that  quarrel 
and  the  moral  which  his  father  drew  from  it.  But  when 
old  King  James  was  dead,  and  Charles  sat  upon  his 
throne,  he  seemed  to  forget  that  he  was  but  a  man,  and 
that  his  meanest  subjects  were  men  as  well  as  he.  He 
wished  to  have  the  property  and  lives  of  the  people  of 
England  entirely  at  his  own  disposal.  But  the  Puritans, 
and  all  who  loved  liberty,  rose  against  him  and  beat  him 
in.  many  battles,  and  pulled  him  down  from  his  throne. 

Throughout  this  war  between  the  king  and  nobles  on 
one  side  and  the  people  of  England  on  the  other  there 
was  a  famous  leader,  who  did  more  towards  the  ruin  of 
royal  authority  than  all  the  rest.  The  contest  seemed 
like  a  wrestling-match  between  King  Charles  and  this 
strong  man.  And  the  king  was  overthrown. 

When  the  discrowned  monarch  was  brought  to  trial, 
that  warlike  leader  sat  in  the  judgment  hall.  Many 
judges  were  present  besides  himself;  but  he  alone  had 
the  power  to  save  King  Charles  or  to  doom  him  to  the 
scaffold.  After  sentence  was  pronounced,  this  victorious 
general  was  entreated  by  his  own  children,  on  their  knees, 
to  rescue  his  Majesty  from  death. 

"  No  !  "  said  he,  sternly.  "  Better  that  one  man 
should  perish  than  that  the  whole  country  should  be 
ruined  for  his  sake.  It  is  resolved  that  he  shall  die !  " 

When  Charles,  no  longer  a  king,  was  led  to  the  scaf 
fold,  his  great  enemy  stood  at  a  window  of  the  royal  palace 
of  Whitehall.  He  beheld  the  poor  victim  of  pride,  and 
an  evil  education,  and  misused  power,  as  he  laid  his  head 
upon  the  block.  He  looked  on  with  a  steadfast  gaze 
while  a  black-veiled  executioner  lifted  the  fatal  axe  and 
smote  off  that  anointed  head  at  a  single  blow. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STOEIES.  263 

"It  is  a  righteous  deed/'  perhaps  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Now  Englishmen  may  enjoy  their  rights." 

At  night,  when  the  body  of  Charles  was  laid  in  the 
coffin,  in  a  gloomy  chamber,  the  general  entered,  lighting 
himself  with  a  torch.  Its  gleam  showed  that  he  was  now 
growing  old ;  his  visage  was  scarred  with  the  many  bat 
tles  in  which  he  had  led  the  van ;  his  brow  was  wrinkled 
with  care  and  with  the  continual  exercise  of  stern  author 
ity.  Probably  there  was  not  a  single  trait,  either  of 
aspect  or  manner,  that  belonged  to  the  little  Noll  who 
had  battled  so  stoutly  with  Prince  Charles.  Yet  this 
was  he ! 

He  lifted  the  coffin-lid,  and  caused  the  light  of  his 
torch  to  fall  upon  the  dead  monarch's  face.  Then,  prob 
ably,  his  mind  went  back  over  all  the  marvellous  events 
that  had  brought  the  hereditary  King  of  England  to  this 
dishonored  coffin,  and  had  raised  himself,  a  humble  in 
dividual,  to  the  possession  of  kingly  power.  He  was  a 
king,  though  without  the  empty  title  or  the  glittering 
crown. 

"Why  was  it,"  said  Cromwell  to  himself,  or  might 
have  said,  as  he  gazed  at  the  pale  features  in  the  coffin, 
— "  why  was  it  that  this  great  king  fell,  and  that  poor 
Noll  Cromwell  has  gained  all  the  power  of  the  realm  ?  " 

And,  indeed,  why  was  it  ? 

King  Charles  had  fallen,  because,  in  his  manhood  the 
same  as  when  a  child,  he  disdained  to  feel  that  every 
human  creature  was  his  brother.  He  deemed  himself 
a  superior  being,  and  fancied  that  his  subjects  were  cre 
ated  only  for  a  king  to  rule  over.  And  Cromwell  rose, 
because,  in  spite  of  his  many  faults,  he  mainly  fought 
for  the  rights  and  freedom  of  his  fellow-men ;  and  there 
fore  the  poor  and  the  oppressed  all  lent  their  strength 
to  him. 


264  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

"  Dear  father,  how  I  should  hate  to  be  a  king !  "  ex 
claimed  Edward. 

"  And  would  you  like  to  be  a  Cromwell  ?  "  inquired  his 
father. 

"  I  should  like  it  well,"  replied  George ;  "  only  I 
would  not  have  put  the  poor  old  king  to  death.  I  would 
have  sent  him  out  of  the  kingdom,  or  perhaps  have  al 
lowed  him  to  live  in  a  small  house  near  the  gate  of  the 
royal  palace.  It  was  too  severe  to  cut  oft'  his  head/3 

"  Kings  are  in  such  an  unfortunate  position,"  said  Mr. 
Temple,  "that  they  must  either  be  almost  deified  by  their 
subjects,  or  else  be  dethroned  and  beheaded.  In  either 
case  it  is  a  pitiable  lot." 

"  0,  I  had  rather  be  blind  than  be  a  king !  "  said 
Edward. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Edward,"  observed  his  mother,  with  a 
smile,  "  I  am  glad  you  are  convinced  that  your  own  lot  is 
not  the  hardest  in  the  Avorld." 


CHAPTER    VII. 

|T  was  a  pleasant  sight,  for  those  who  had  eyes, 
to  see  how  patiently  the  blinded  little  boy  now 
submitted  to  what  he  had  at  first  deemed  an 
intolerable  calamity.  The  beneficent  Creator  has  not 
allowed  our  comfort  to  depend  on  the  enjoyment  of  any 
single  sense.  Though  he  has  made  the  world  so  very 
beautiful,  yet  it  is  possible  to  be  happy  without  ever  be 
holding  the  blue  sky,  or  the  green  and  flowery  earth,  or 
the  kind  faces  of  those  whom  we  love.  Thus  it  appears 
that  all  the  external  beauty  of  the  universe  is  a  free  gift 
from  God  over  and  above  what  is  necessary  to  our  com 
fort.  How  grateful,  then,  should  we  be  to  that  divine 
Benevolence,  which  showers  even  superfluous  bounties 
upon  us ! 

One  truth,  therefore,  which  Edward's  blindness  had 
taught  him  was,  that  his  mind  and  soul  could  dispense 
with  the  assistance  of  his  eyes.  Doubtless,  however,  he 
would  have  found  this  lesson  far  more  difficult  to  learn 
had  it  not  been  for  the  affection  of  those  around  him. 
His  parents,  and  George  and  Emily,  aided  him  to  bear 
his  misfortune ;  if  possible,  they  would  have  lent  him 
their  own  eyes.  And  this,  too,  was  a  good  lesson  for 
him.  It  taught  him  how  dependent  on  one  another  God 
has  ordained  us  to  be,  insomuch  that  all  the  necessities  of 
mankind  should  incite  them  to  mutual  love. 
12 


266  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

So  Edward  loved  his  friends,  and  perhaps  all  the 
world,  better  than  he  ever  did  before.  And  he  felt  grate 
ful  towards  his  father  for  spending  the  evenings  in  telling 
him  stories,  —  more  grateful,  probably,  than  any  of  my 
little  readers  will  feel  towards  me  for  so  carefully  writing 
these  same  stories  down. 

"  Come,  dear  father,"  said  he,  the  next  evening,  "  now 
tell  us  about  some  other  little  boy  who  was  destined  to 
be  a  famous  man." 

"  How  would  you  like  a  story  of  a  Boston  boy  ? " 
asked  his  father. 

"  0,  pray  let  us  have  it !  "  cried  George,  eagerly.  "It 
will  be  all  the  better  if  he  has  been  to  our  schools,  and 
has  coasted  on  the  Common,  and  sailed  boats  in  the  Frog 
Pond.  I  shall  feel  acquainted  with  him  then." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Mr.  Temple,  "  I  will  introduce  you 
to  a  Boston  boy  whom  all  the  world  became  acquainted 
with  after  he  grew  to  be  a  man." 

The  story  was  as  follows  :  — 

BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 

[BORN  1706.    DIED  1790.] 

In  the  year  1716,  or  about  that  period,  a  boy  used  to 
be  seen  in  the  streets  of  Boston  who  was  known  among 
his  schoolfellows  and  playmates  by  the  name  of  Ben 
Franklin.  Ben  was  born  in  1706;  so  that  he  was  now 
about  ten  years  old.  His  father,  who  had  come  over 
from  England,  was  a  soap-boiler  and  tallow-chandler, 
and  resided  in  Milk  Street,  not  far  from  the  Old  South 
Church. 

Ben  was  a  bright  boy  at  his  book,  and  even  a  brighter 
one  when  at  play  with  his  comrades.  He  had  some 
remarkable  qualities  which  always  seemed  to  give  him 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  2G7 

the  lead,  whether  at  sport  or  in  more  serious  matters. 
I  might  tell  you  a  number  of  amusing  anecdotes  about 
him.  You  are  acquainted,  I  suppose,  with  his  famous 
story  of  the  WHISTLE,  and  how  he  bought  it  with  a 
whole  pocketful  of  coppers  and  afterwards  repented  of 
his  bargain.  But  Ben  had  grown  a  great  boy  since 
those  days,  and  had  gained  wisdom  by  experience ;  for 
it  was  one  of  his  peculiarities,  that  no  incident  ever  hap 
pened  to  him  without  teaching  him  some  valuable  lesson. 
Thus  he  generally  profited  more  by  his  misfortunes  than 
many  people  do  by  the  most  favorable  events  that  could 
befall  them. 

Ben's  face  was  already  pretty  well  known  to  the  in 
habitants  of  Boston.  The  selectmen  and  other  people  of 
note  often  used  to  visit  his  father,  for  the  sake  of  talking 
about  the  affairs  of  the  town  or  province.  Mr.  Franklin 
was  considered  a  person  of  great  wisdom  and  integrity, 
and  was  respected  by  all  who  knew  him,  although  he 
supported  his  family  by  the  humble  trade  of  boiling  soap 
and  making  tallow  candles. 

While  his  father  and  the  visitors  were  holding  deep 
consultations  about  public  affairs,  little  Ben  would  sit  on 
his  stool  in  a  corner,  listening  with  the  greatest  interest, 
as  if  he  understood  every  word.  Indeed,  his  features 
were  so  full  of  intelligence  that  there  could  be  but  little 
doubt,  not  only  that  he  understood  what  was  said,  but 
that  he  could  have  expressed  some  very  sagacious  opin 
ions  out  of  his  own  mind.  But  in  those  days  boys  were 
expected  to  be  silent  in  the  presence  of  their  elders. 
However,  Ben  Franklin  was  looked  upon  as  a  very  prom 
ising  lad,  who  would  talk  and  act  wisely  by  and  by. 

"  Neighbor  Franklin,"  his  father's  friends  would  some 
times  say,  "  you  ought  to  send  this  boy  to  college  and 
make  a  minister  of  him.'1 


268  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  it,"  his  father  would  reply; 
"and  my  brother  Benjamin  promises  to  give  him  a  great 
many  volumes  of  manuscript  sermons,  in  case  he  should 
he  educated  for  the  church.  Bat  I  have  a  large  family 
to  support,  and  cannot  afford  the  expense." 

In  fact,  Mr.  Franklin  found  it  so  difficult  to  provide 
bread  for  his  family,  that,  when  the  boy  was  ten  years 
old,  it  became  necessary  to  take  him  from  school.  Ben 
was  then  employed  in  cutting  candle-wicks  into  equal 
lengths  and  filling  the  moulds  with  tallow;  and  many 
families  in  Boston  spent  their  evenings  by  the  light  of 
the  candles  which  he  had  helped  to  make.  Thus,  you 
see,  in  his  early  days,  as  well  as  in  his  manhood,  his 
labors  contributed  to  throw  light  upon  dark  matters. 

Busy  as  his  life  now  was,  Ben  still  found  time  to  keep 
company  with  his  former  schoolfellows.  He  and  the 
other  boys  were  very  fond  of  fishing,  and  spent  many  of 
their  leisure  hours  on  the  margin  of  the  mill-pond,  catch 
ing  flounders,  perch,  eels,  and  tomcod,  which  came  up 
thither  with  the  tide.  The  place  where  they  fished  is 
now,  probably,  covered  with  stone  pavements  and  brick 
buildings,  and  thronged  with  people  and  with  vehicles 
of  all  kinds.  But  at  that  period  it  was  a  marshy  spot  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  where  gulls  flitted  and  screamed 
overhead  and  salt -meadow  grass  grew  under  foot. 

On  the  edge  of  the  water  there  was  a  deep  bed  of  clay, 
in  which  the  boys  were  forced  to  stand  while  they  caught 
their  fish.  Here  they  dabbled  in  mud  and  mire  like  a 
flock  of  ducks. 

"  This  is  very  uncomfortable,"  said  Ben  Franklin  one 
day  to  his  comrades,  while  they  were  standing  mid-leg 
deep  in  the  quagmire. 

"  So  it  is,"  said  the  other  boys.  "  What  a  pity  we 
have  no  better  place  to  stand  ! " 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES.  269 

If  it  had  not  been  for  Ben,  nothing  more  would  have 
been  done  or  said  about  the  matter.  But  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  be  sensible  of  an  inconvenience  without 
using  his  best  efforts  to  find  a  remedy.  So,  as  he  and 
his  comrades  were  returning  from  the  water-side,  Ben 
suddenly  threw  down  his  string  of  fish  with  a  very  deter 
mined  air. 

"  Boys,"  cried  he,  "  I  have  thought  of  a  scheme  which 
will  be  greatly  for  our  benefit  and  for  the  public  benefit."*' 

It  was  queer  enough,  to  be  sure,  to  hear  this  lit 
tle  chap  —  this  rosy-cheeked,  ten-year-old  boy  —  talking 
about  schemes  for  the  public  benefit !  Nevertheless,  his 
companions  were  ready  to  listen,  being  assured  that  Ben's 
scheme,  whatever  it  was,  would  be  well  worth  their  at 
tention.  They  remembered  how  sagaciously  he  had  con 
ducted  all  their  enterprises  ever  since  he  had  been  old 
enough  to  wear  small-clothes. 

They  remembered,  too,  his  wonderful  contrivance  of 
sailing  across  the  mill-pond  by  lying  flat  on  his  back  in 
the  water  and  allowing  himself  to  be  drawn  along  by  a 
paper  kite.  If  Ben  could  do  that,  he  might  certainly  do 
anything. 

"  What  is  your  scheme,  Ben  ?  —  what  is  it  ?  "  cried 
they  all. 

It  so  happened  that  they  had  now  come  to  a  spot  of 
ground  where  a  new  house  was  to  be  built.  Scattered 
round  about  lay  a  great  many  large  stones  which  were  to 
be  used  for  the  cellar  and  foundation.  Ben  mounted 
upon  the  highest  of  these  stones,  so  that  he  might  speak 
with  the  more  authority. 

"  You  know,  lads,"  said  he,  "  what  a  plague  it  is  to  be 
forced  to  stand  in  the  quagmire  yonder, —  over  shoes  and 
stockings  (if  we  wear  any)  in  mud  and  water.  See  !  I 
am  bedaubed  to  the  knees  of  my  small-clothes ;  and  you 


270  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

are  all  in  the  same  pickle.  Unless  we  can  find  some 
remedy  for  this  evil,  our  fishing  business  must  be  entirely 
given  up.  And,  surely,  this  would  be  a  terrible  misfor 
tune  !  " 

"  That  it  would !  that  it  would !  "  said  his  comrades, 
sorrowfully. 

"Now,  I  propose,"  continued  Master  Benjamin,  "that 
we  build  a  wharf,  for  the  purpose  cf  carrying  on  our 
fisheries.  You  see  these  stones.  The  workmen  mean  to 
use  them  for  the  underpinning  of  a  house ;  but  that 
would  be  for  only  one  man's  advantage.  My  plan  is  to 
take  these  same  stones  and  carry  them  to  the  edge  of  the 
water  and  build  a  wharf  with  them.  This  will  not  only 
enable  us  to  carry  on  the  fishing  business  with  comfort 
and  to  better  advantage,  but  it  will  likewise  be  a  great 
convenience  to  boats  passing  up  and  down  the  stream. 
Thus,  instead  of  one  man,  fifty,  or  a  hundred,  or  a  thou 
sand,  besides  ourselves,  may  be  benefited  by  these  stones. 
What  say  you,  lads  ?  shall  we  build  the  wharf?" 

Ben's  proposal  was  received  with  one  of  those  uproari 
ous  shouts  wherewith  boys  usually  express  their  delight 
at  whatever  completely  suits  their  views.  Nobody  thought 
of  questioning  the  right  and  justice  of  building  a  wharf 
with  stones  that  belonged  to  another  person. 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  "  shouted  they.  "  Let 's  set  about 
it." 

It  was  agreed  that  they  should  all  be  on  the  spot  that 
evening  and  commence  their  grand  public  enterprise 
by  moonlight.  Accordingly,  at  the  appointed  time,  the 
whole  gang  of  youthful  laborers  assembled,  and  eagerly 
began  to  remove  the  stones.  They  had  not  calculated  how 
much  toil  would  be  requisite  in  this  important  part  of  their 
undertaking.  The  very  first  stone  which  they  laid  hold  of 
proved  so  heavy  that  it  almost  seemed  to  be  fastened  to 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  271 

the  ground.  Nothing  but  Ben  Franklin's  cheerful  and 
resolute  spirit  could  have  induced  them  to  persevere. 

Ben,  as  might  be  expected,  was  the  soul  of  the  en 
terprise.  By  his  mechanical  genius,  he  contrived  meth 
ods  to  lighten  the  labor  of  transporting  the  stones,  so 
that  one  boy,  under  his  directions,  would  perform  as  much 
as  half  a  dozen  if  left  to  themselves.  Whenever  their 
spirits  flagged  he  had  some  joke  ready,  which  seemed  to 
renew  their  strength,  by  setting  them  all  into  a  roar  of 
laughter.  And  when,  after  an  hour  or  two  of  hard  work, 
the  stones  were  transported  to  the  water-side,  Ben  Frank 
lin  was  the  engineer  to  superintend  the  construction  of 
the  wharf. 

The  boys,  like  a  colony  of  ants,  performed  a  great 
deal  of  labor  by  their  multitude,  though  the  individual 
strength  of  each  could  have  accomplished  but  little. 
Finally,  just  as  the  moon  sank  below  the  horizon,  the 
great  work  was  finished. 

"  Now,  boys/3  cried  Ben,  "  let 's  give  three  cheers  and 
go  home  to  bed.  To-morrow  we  may  catch  fish  at  our 
ease." 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  !  "  snouted  his  comrades. 

Then  they  all  went  home  in  such  an  ecstasy  of  delight 
that  they  could  hardly  get  a  wink  of  sleep. 

The  story  was  not  yet  finished;  but  George's  impa 
tience  caused  him  to  interrupt  it. 

"  How  I  wish  that  I  could  have  helped  to  build  that 
wharf ! "  exclaimed  he.  "  It  must  have  been  glorious 
fun.  Ben  Franklin  forever,  say  I." 

"  It  was  a  very  pretty  piece  of  work,"  said  Mr.  Tem 
ple.  "  But  wait  till  you  hear  the  end  of  the  story." 

"  Father,"  inquired  Edward,  "  whereabouts  in  Boston 
was  the  mill-pond  on  which  Ben  built  his  wharf  ?  " 

"  I   do   not  exactly  know,"  answered  Mr.  Temple ; 


272 


BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 


"but  I  suppose  it  to  have  been  on  the  northern  verge 
of  the  town,  in  the  vicinity  of  what  are  now  called  Mer- 
rimack  and  Charlestown  Streets.  That  thronged  por 
tion  of  the  city  was  once  a  marsh.  Some  of  it,  in  fact, 
was  covered  with  water." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


S  the  children  had  no  more  questions  to  ask, 
Mr.  Temple  proceeded   to  relate  what  conse 
quences  ensued  from  the  building  of  Ben  Frank 
lin's  wharf. 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 

[CONTINUED.] 

Iii  the  morning,  when  the  early  sunbeams  were  gleam 
ing  on  the  steeples  and  roofs  of  the  town  and  gilding  the 
water  that  surrounded  it,  the  masons  came,  rubbing  their 
eyes,  to  begin  their  work  at  the  foundation  of  the  new 
house.  But,  on  reaching  the  spot,  they  rubbed  their 
eyes  so  much  the  harder.  What  had  become  of  their 
heap  of  stones  ? 

"  Why,  Sam/'  said  one  to  another,  in  great  perplexity, 
"here's  been  some  witchcraft  at  work  while  we  were 
asleep.  The  stones  must  have  flown  away  through  the 
air ! " 

"  More  likely  they  have  been  stolen  !  "  answered  Sam. 

"  But  who  on  earth  would  think  of  stealing  a  heap  of 
stones  ?  "  cried  a  third.  "  Could  a  man  carry  them  away 
in  his  pocket  ?  " 

The  master  mason,  who  was  a  gruff  kind  of  man,  stood 
scratching  his  head,  and  said  nothing  at  first.  But,  look- 

12*  R 


274  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

ing  carefully  on  the  ground,  lie  discerned  innumerable 
tracks  of  little  feet,  some  with  shoes  and  some  barefoot. 
Following  these  tracks  with  his  eye,  he  saw  that  they 
formed  a  beaten  path  towards  the  water-side. 

"  Ah,  I  see  what  the  mischief  is,"  said  he,  nodding 
his  head.  "  Those  little  rascals,  the  boys,  —  they  have 
stolen  our  stones  to  build  a  wharf  with  !  " 

The  masons  immediately  went  to  examine  the  new 
structure.  And  to  say  the  truth,  it  was  well  worth  look 
ing  at,  so  ueatly  and- with  such  admirable  skill  had  it 
been  planned  and  finished.  The  stones  were  put  together 
so  securely  that  there  was  no  danger  of  their  being  loos 
ened  by  the  tide,  however  swiftly  it  might  sweep  along. 
There  was  a  broad  and  safe  platform  to  stand  upon, 
whence  the  little  fishermen  might  cast  their  lines  into 
deep  water  and  draw  up  fish  in  abundance.  Indeed,  it 
almost  seemed  as  if  Ben  and  his  comrades  might  be  for 
given  for  taking  the  stones,  because  they  had  done  their 
job  in  such  a  workmanlike  manner. 

"  The  chaps  that  built  this  wharf  understood  their  busi 
ness  pretty  well,"  said  one  of  the  masons.  "  I  should  not 
be  ashamed  of  such  a  piece  of  work  mvself." 

But  the  master  mason  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  the  joke. 
He  was  one  of  those  unreasonable  people  who  care  a 
great  deal  more  for  their  own  rights  and  privileges  than 
for  the  convenience  of  all  the  rest  of  the  world. 

"  Sam,"  said  he,  more  gruffly  than  usual,  "  go  call  a 
constable." 

So  Sam  called  a  constable,  and  inquiries  were  set  on 
foot  to  discover  the  perpetrators  of  the  theft.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  warrants  were  issued,  with  the  signa 
ture  of  a  justice  of  the  peace,  to  take  the  bodies  of  Ben 
jamin  Franklin  and  other  evil-disposed  persons  who  had 
stolen  a  heap  of  stones.  If  the  owner  of  the  stolen  prop- 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  275 

erty  had  not  been  more  merciful  than  the  master  mason, 
it  might  have  gone  hard  with  our  friend  Benjamin  and 
his  fellow-laborers.  But,  luckily  for  them,  the  gentleman 
had  a  respect  for  Ben's  father,  and,  moreover,  was  amused 
with  the  spirit  of  the  whole  affair.  He  therefore  let  the 
culprits  off  pretty  easily. 

But,  when  the  constables  were  dismissed,  the  poor  boys 
had  to  go  through  another  trial,  and  receive  sentence, 
and  suffer  execution,  too,  from  their  own  fathers.  Many 
a  rod,  I  grieve  to  say,  was  worn  to  the  stump  on  that 
unlucky  night. 

As  for  Ben,  lie  was  less  afraid  of  a  whipping  than  of 
his  father's  disapprobation.  Mr.  Franklin,  as  I  have  men 
tioned  before,  was  a  sagacious  man,  and  also  an  inflexibly 
upright  one.  He  had  read  much  for  a  person  in  his  rank 
of  life,  and  had  pondered  upon  the  ways  of  the  world, 
until  he  had  gained  more  wisdom  than  a  whole  library  of 
books  could  have  taught  him.  Ben  had  a  greater  rever 
ence  for  his  father  than  for  any  other  person  in  the  world, 
as  well  on  account  of  his  spotless  integrity  as  of  his  prac 
tical  sense  and  deep  views  of  things. 

Consequently,  after  being  released  from  the  clutches  of 
the  law,  Ben  came  into  his  father's  presence  with  no 
small  perturbation  of  mind. 

"  Benjamin,  come  hither,"  began  Mr.  Franklin,  in  his 
customary  solemn  and  weighty  tone. 

The  boy  approached  and  stood  before  his  father's  chair, 
waiting  reverently  to  hear  what  judgment  this  good  man 
would  pass  upon  his  late  offence.  He  felt  that  now  the 
right  and  wrong  of  the  whole  matter  would  be  made  to 
appear. 

"  Benjamin  !  "  said  his  father,  "  what  could  induce  you 
to  take  property  which  did  not  belong  to  you  ? " 

"  Why,  father,"  replied  Ben,  hanging  his  head  at  first, 


276  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

but  then  lifting  his  eyes  to  Mr.  Franklin's  face,  "if  it 
had  been  merely  for  my  own  benefit,  I  never  should  have 
dreamed  of  it.  But  I  knew  that  the  wharf  would  be 
a  public  convenience.  If  the  owner  of  the  stones  should 
build  a  house  with  them,  nobody  will  enjoy  any  advan 
tage  except  himself.  Now,  I  made  use  of  them  in  a  way 
that  was  for  the  advantage  of  many  persons.  I  thought 
it  right  to  aim  at  doing  good  to  the  greatest  number." 

"  My  son,"  said  Mr.  Franklin,  solemnly,  "  so  far  as  it 
was  in  your  power,  you  have  done  a  greater  harm  to  the 
public  than  to  the  owner  of  the  stones." 

"  How  can  that  be,  father  ?  "  asked  Ben. 

"Because,"  answered  his  father,  "in  building  your 
wharf  with  stolen  materials,  you  have  committed  a  moral 
wrong.  There  is  no  more  terrible  mistake  than  to  vio 
late  what  is  eternally  right  for  the  sake  of  a  seeming  ex 
pediency.  Those  who  act  upon  such  a  principle  do  the 
utmost  in  their  power  to  destroy  all  that  is  good  in  the 
world." 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  "  said  Benjamin. 

"  No  act,"  continued  Mr.  Franklin,  "  can  possibly  be 
for  the  benefit  of  the  public  generally  which  involves  in 
justice  to  any  individual.  It  would  be  easy  to  prove  this 
by  examples.  But,  indeed,  can  we  suppose  that  our  all- 
wise  and  just  Creator  would  have  so  ordered  the  affairs 
of  the  world  that  a  wrong  act  should  be  the  true  method 
of  attaining  a  right  end  ?  It  is  impious  to  think  so. 
And  I  do  verily  believe,  Benjamin,  that  almost  all  the 
public  and  private  misery  of  mankind  arises  from  a 
neglect  of  this  great  truth, — that  evil  can  produce 
only  evil, — that  good  ends  must  be  wrought  out  by 
good  means." 

"  I  will  never  forget  it  again,"  said  Benjamin,  bowing 
his  head. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  277 

cc  Remember/'  concluded  his  father,  "  that,  whenever 
we  vary  from  the  highest  rule  of  right,  just  so  far  we  do 
an  injury  to  the  world.  It  may  seem  otherwise  for  the 
moment ;  but,  both  in  time  and  in  eternity,  it  will  be 
found  so." 

To  the  close  of  his  life  Ben  Eranklin  never  forgot  this 
conversation  with  his  father;  and  we  have  reason  to  sup 
pose  that,  in  most  of  his  public  and  private  career,  he 
endeavored  to  act  upon  the  principles  which  that  good 
and  wise  man  had  then  taught  him. 

After  the  great  event  of  building  the  wharf,  Ben  con 
tinued  to  cut  wick-yarn  and  fill  candle-moulds  for  about 
two  years.  But,  as  he  had  no  love  for  that  occupation, 
his  father  often  took  him  to  see  various  artisans  at  their 
work,  in  order  to  discover  what  trade  he  would  prefer. 
Thus  Ben  learned  the  use  of  a  great  many  tools,  the 
knowledge  of  which  afterwards  proved  very  useful  to 
him.  But  he  seemed  much  inclined  to  go  to  sea.  In 
order  to  keep  him  at  home,  and  likewise  to  gratify  his 
taste  for  letters,  the  lad  was  bound  apprentice  to  his 
elder  brother,  who  had  lately  set  up  a  printing-office  in 
Boston. 

Here  he  had  many  opportunities  of  reading  new  books 
and  of  hearing  instructive  conversation.  He  exercised 
himself  so  successfully  in  writing  compositions,  that,  when 
no  more  than  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  old,  he  became  a 
contributor  to  his  brother's  newspaper.  Ben  was  also  a 
versifier,  if  not  a  poet.  He  made  two  doleful  ballads,  — 
one  about  the  shipwreck  of  Captain  Worthilake  ;  and 
the  other  about  the  pirate  Black  Beard,  who,  not  long 
before,  infested  the  American  seas. 

When  Ben's  verses  were  printed,  his  brother  sent  him 
to  sell  them  to  the  townspeople  wet  from  the  press. 
"  Buy  my  ballads  ! "  shouted  Benjamin,  as  he  trudged 


278  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

through  the  streets  with  a  basketful  on  his  arm. 
"Who  11  buy  a  ballad  about  Black  Beard?  A  penny 
apiece  !  a  penny  apiece  !  Who  '11  buy  my  ballads  ?  " 

If  one  of  those  roughly  composed  and  rudely  printed 
ballads  could  be  discovered  now,  it  would  be  worth  more 
than  its  weight  in  gold. 

In  this  way  our  friend  Benjamin  spent  his  boyhood 
and  youth,  until,  on  account  of  some  disagreement  with 
his  brother,  he  left  his  native  town  and  went  to  Phila 
delphia.  He  landed  in  the  latter  city,  a  homeless  and 
hungry  young  man,  and  bought  threepence  worth  of 
bread  to  satisfy  his  appetite.  Not  knowing  where  else 
to  go,  he  entered  a  Quaker  meeting-house,  sat  down,  and 
fell  fast  asleep.  He  has  not  told  us  whether  his  slum 
bers  were  visited  by  any  dreams.  But  it  would  have 
been  a  strange  dream,  indeed,  and  an  incredible  one,  that 
should  have  foretold  how  great  a  man  he  was  destined  to 
become,  and  how  much  he  would  be  honored  in  that  very 
city  where  he  was  now  friendless  and  unknown. 

So  here  we  finish  our  story  of  the  childhood  of  Ben 
jamin  .Franklin.  One  of  these  days,  if  you  would  know 
what  he  was  in  his  manhood,  you  must  read  his  own 
works  and  the  history  of  American  independence. 

"  Do  let  us  hear  a  little  more  of  him  !  "  said  Edward ; 
"  not  that  I  admire  him  so  much  as  many  other  charac 
ters  ;  but  he  interests  me,  because  he  was  a  Yankee  boy." 

"My  dear  son,"  replied  Mr.  Temple,  "it  would  re 
quire  a  whole  volume  of  talk  to  tell  you  all  that  is  worth 
knowing  about  Benjamin  Franklin.  There  is  a  very 
pretty  anecdote  of  his  flying  a  kite  in  the  midst  of  a 
thunder-storm,  and  thus  drawing  down  the  lightning 
from  the  clouds  and  proving  that  it  was  the  same  thing 
as  electricity.  His  whole  life  would  be  an  interesting 
story,  if  we  had  time  to  tell  it." 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  279 

"But,  pray,  dear  father,  tell  us  what  made  him  so 
famous,"  said  George.  "  I  have  seen  his  portrait  a  great 
many  times.  There  is  a  wooden  bust  of  him  in  one  of 
our  streets ;  and  marble  ones,  I  suppose,  in  some  other 
places.  And  towns,  and  ships  of  war,  and  steamboats, 
and  banks,  and  academies,  and  children  are  often  named 
after  Franklin.  Why  should  he  have  grown  so  very 
famous  ?  " 

"Your  question  is  a  reasonable  one,  Gsorge,"  an 
swered  his  father.  "1  doubt  whether  Franklin's  philo 
sophical  discoveries,  important  as  they  were,  or  even  his 
vast  political  services,  would  have  given  him  all  the  fame 
which  he  acquired.  It  appears  to  me  that  Poor  Richard's 
Almanac  did  more  than  anything  else  towards  making 
him  familiarly  known  to  the  public.  As  the  writer  of 
those  proverbs  which  Poor  Richard  was  supposed  to 
utter,  Franklin  became  the  counsellor  and  household 
friend  of  almost  every  family  in  America.  Thus  it  was 
the  humblest  of  all  his  labors  that  has  done  the  most  for 
his  fame." 

"  I  have  read  some  of  those  proverbs,"  remarked 
Edward ;  "  but  I  do  not  like  them.  They  are  all  about 
getting  money  or  saving  it." 

"Well,"  said  his  father,  "they  were  suited  to  the 
condition  of  the  country ;  and  their  effect,  upon  the 
whole,  has  doubtless  been  good,  although  they  teach  men 
but  a  very  small  portion  of  their  duties." 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

pTHERTO  Mr.  Temple's  narratives  had  all  been 
about  boys  and  men.  But,  the  next  evening, 
he  bethought  himself  that  the  quiet  little- Emily 
would  perhaps  be  glad  to  hear  the  story  of  a  child  of  her 
own  sex.  He  therefore  resolved  to  narrate  the  youthful 
adventures  of  Christina,  of  Sweden,  who  began  to  be  a 
queen  at  the  age  of  no  more  than  six  years.  If  we  have 
any  little  girls  among  our  readers,  they  must  not  suppose 
that  Christina  is  set  before  them  as  a  pattern  of  what 
they  ought  to  be.  On  the  contrary,  the  tale  of  her  life  is 
chiefly  profitable  as  showing  the  evil  effects  of  a  wrong 
education,  which  caused  this  daughter  of  a  king  to  be 
both  useless  and  unhappy.  Here  follows  the  story. 

QUEEN  CHRISTINA. 

[BORN  1626.    DIED  1689.] 

Iii  the  royal  palace  at  Stockholm,  the  capital  city  of  Swe 
den,  there  was  born,  in  1626,  a  little  princess.  The  king, 
her  father,  gave  her  the  name  of  Christina,  in  memory  of  a 
Swedish  girl  with  whom  he  had  been  in  love.  His  own 
name  was  Gustavus  Adolphus ;  and  he  was  also  called 
the  Lion  of  the  North,  because  he  had  gained  greater 
fame  in  war  than  any  other  prince  or  general  then  alive. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  281 

With  tliis  valiant  king  for  their  commander,  the  Swedes 
had  made  themselves  terrible  to  the  Emperor  of  Germany 
and  to  the  king  of  France,  and  were  looked  upon  as  the 
chief  defence  of  the  Protestant  religion. 

The  little  Christina  was  by  no  means  a  beautiful  child. 
To  confess  the  truth,  she  was  remarkably  plain.  The 
queen,  her  mother,  did  not  love  her  so  much  as  she 
ought ;  partly,  perhaps,  on  account  of  Christina's  want 
of  beauty,  and  also  because  both  the  king  and  queen  had 
wished  for  a  son,  who  might  have  gained  as  great  renown 
in  battle  as  his  father  had. 

The  king,  however,  soon  became  exceedingly  fond  of 
the  infant  princess.  When  Christina  was  very  young  she 
was  taken  violently  sick.  Gustavus  Adolphus,  who  was 
several  hundred  miles  from  Stockholm,  travelled  night 
and  day,  and  never  rested  until  he  held  the  poor  child  in 
his  arms.  On  her  recovery  he  made  a  solemn  festival,  in 
order  to  show  his  joy  to  the  people  of  Sweden  and  express 
his  gratitude  to  Heaven.  After  this  event  he  took  his 
daughter  with  him  in  all  the  journeys  which  he  made 
throughout  his  kingdom. 

Christina  soon  proved  herself  a  bold  and  sturdy  little 
girl.  When  she  was  two  years  old,  the  king  and  herself, 
in  the  course  of  a  journey,  came  to  the  strong  fortress  of 
Colmar.  On  the  battlements  were  soldiers  clad  in  steel 
armor,  which  glittered  in  the  sunshine.  There  were  like 
wise  great  cannons,  pointing  their  black  mouths  at  Gus 
tavus  and  little  Christina,  and  ready  to  belch  out  their 
smoke  and  thunder ;  for,  whenever  a  king  enters  a  for 
tress,  it  is,customary  to  receive  him  with  a  royal  salute 
of  artillery. 

But  the  captain  of  the  fortress  met  Gustavus  and  his 
daughter  as  they  were  about  to  enter  the  gateway. 

"  May  it  please  your  Majesty/3  said  he,  taking  off  his 


282  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

steel  cap  and  bowing  profoundly,  "  I  fear  that,  if  we  re 
ceive  you  with  a  salute  of  cannon,  the  little  princess  will 
be  frightened  almost  to  death." 

Gustavus  looked  earnestly  at  his  daughter,  and  was 
indeed  apprehensive  that  the  thunder  of  so  many  cannon 
might  perhaps  throw  her  into  convulsions.  He  had  al 
most  a  mind  to  tell  the  captain  to  let  them  enter  the  for 
tress  quietly,  as  common  people  might  have  done,  without 
all  this  head-splitting  racket.  But  no  ;  this  would  not  do. 

"  Let  them  tire,"  said  he,  waving  his  hand.  "  Christina 
is  a  soldier's  daughter,  and  must  learn  to  bear  the  noise 
of  cannon." 

So  the  captain  uttered  the  word  of  command,  and  im 
mediately  there  was  a  terrible  peal  of  thunder  from  the 
cannon,  and  such  a  gush  of  smoke  that  it  enveloped  the 
whole  fortress  in  its  volumes.  But,  amid  all  the  din  and 
confusion,  Christina  was  seen  clapping  her  little  hands 
and  laughing  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.  Probably  nothing 
ever  pleased  her  father  so  much  as  to  see  that  his  daugh 
ter  promised  to  be  fearless  as  himself.  He  determined 
to  educate  her  exactly  as  if  she  had  been  a  boy,  and  to 
teach  her  all  the  knowledge  needful  to  the  ruler  of  a, 
kingdom  and  the  commander  of  an  army. 

But  Gustavus  should  have  remembered  that  Providence 
had  created  her  to  be  a  woman,  and  that  it  was  not  for 
him  to  make  a  man  of  her. 

However,  the  king  derived  great  happiness  from  his 
beloved  Christina.  It  must  have  been  a  pleasant  sight 
to  see  the  powerful  monarch  of  Sweden  playing  in  some 
magnificent  hall  of  the  palace  with  his  merry  little  girl. 
Then  he  forgot  that  the  weight  of  a  kingdom  rested  upon 
his  shoulders.  He  forgot  that  the  wise  Chancellor  Ox- 
enstiern  was  waiting  to  consult  with  him  how  to  render 
Sweden  the  greatest  nation  of  Europe.  He  forgot  that 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  283 

the  Emperor  of  Germany  and  the  King  of  France  were 
plotting  together  how  they  might  pull  him  down  from  his 
throne. 

Yes;  Gustavus  forgot  all  the  perils,  and  cares,  and 
pompous  irksomeness  of  a  royal  life  ;  and  was  as  happy, 
while  playing  with  his  child,  as  the  humblest  peasant  in 
the  realm  of  Sweden.  How  gayly  did  they  dance  along 
the  marble  floor  of  the  palace,  this  valiant  king,  with  his 
upright,  martial  figure,  his  war-worn  visage,  and  com 
manding  aspect,  and  the  small,  round  form  of  Christina, 
with  her  rosy  face  of  childish  merriment !  Her  little  fin 
gers  were  clasped  in  her  father's  hand,  which  had  held 
the  leading  staff  in  many  famous  victories.  His  crown 
and  sceptre  were  her  playthings.  She  could  disarm  Gus 
tavus  of  his  sword,  which  was  so  terrible  to  the  princes 
of  Europe. 

But,  alas !  the  king  was  not  long  permitted  to  enjoy 
Christina's  society.  When  she  was  four  years  old  Gus 
tavus  was  summoned  to  take  command  of  the  allied  armies 
of  Germany,  which  were  fighting  against  the  emperor. 
His  greatest  affliction  was  the  necessity  of  parting  with 
his  child;  but  people  in  such  high  stations  have  but  little 
opportunity  for  domestic  happiness.  He  called  an  assem 
bly  of  the  senators  of  Sweden  and  confided  Christina  to 
their  care,  saying,  that  each  one  of  them  must  be  a  father 
to  her  if  he  himself  should  fall  in  battle. 

At  the  moment  of  his  departure  Christina  ran  towards 
him  and  began  to  address  him  with  a  speech  which  some 
body  had  taught  her  for  the  occasion.  Gustavus  was 
busied  with  thoughts  about  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom, 
so  that  he  did  not  immediately  attend  to  the  childish 
voice  of  his  little  girl.  Christina,  who  did  not  love  to  be 
unnoticed,  immediately  stopped  short  and  pulled  him  by 
the  eoat. 


284  BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES. 

"Father,"  said  she,  "why  do  not  you  listen  to  my 
speech  ?  " 

In  a  moment  the  king  forgot  everything  except  that 
he  was  parting  with  what  he  loved  best  in  all  the  world. 
He  caught  the  child  in  his  arms,  pressed  her  to  his 
bosom,  and  burst  into  tears.  Yes;  though  he  was  a  brave 
man,  and  though  he  wore  a  steel  corselet  on  his  breast, 
and  though  armies  were  waiting  for  him  to  lead  them  to 
battle,  still  his  heart  melted  within  him,  and  he  wept. 
Christina,  too,  was  so  afflicted  that  her  attendants  began 
to  fear  that  she  would  actually  die  of  grief.  But  prob 
ably  she  was  soon  comforted ;  for  children  seldom  re 
member  their  parents  quite  so  faithfully  as  their  parents 
remember  them. 

Tor  two  years  more  Christina  remained  in  the  palace 
at  Stockholm.  The  queen,  her  mother,  had  accompanied 
Gustavus  to  the  wars.  The  child,  therefore,  was  left  to 
the  guardianship  of  five  of  the  wisest  men  in  the  king 
dom.  But  these  wise  men  knew  better  how  to  manage 
the  affairs  of  slate  than  how  to  govern  and  educate  a 
little  girl  so  as  to  render  her  a  good  and  happy  woman. 

When  two  years  had  passed  away,  tidings  were  brought 
to  Stockholm  which  filled  everybody  with  triumph  and 
sorrow  at  the  same  time.  The  Swedes  had  won  a  glo 
rious  victory  at  Lutzen.  But,  alas  !  the  warlike  King  of 
Sweden,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  the  father  of  our  little 
Christina,  had  been  slain  at  the  foot  of  a  great  stone, 
which  still  marks  the  spot  of  that  hero's  death. 

Soon  after  this  sad  event,  a  general  assembly,  or  con 
gress,  consisting  of  deputations  from  the  nobles,  the 
clergy,  the  burghers,  and  the  peasants  of  Sweden,  was 
summoned  to  meet  at  Stockholm.  It  was  for  the  pur 
pose  of  declaring  little  Christina  to  be  Queen  of  Sweden 
and  giving  her  the  crown  and  sceptre  of  her  deceased 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  285 

father.  Silence  being  proclaimed,  the  Chancellor  Oxen- 
stiern  arose. 

"  We  desire  to  know,"  said  lie,  "  whether  the  people 
of  Sweden  will  take  the  daughter  of  our  dead  king, 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  to  be  their  queen." 

When  the  chancellor  had  spoken,  an  old  man,  with 
white  hair  and  in  coarse  apparel,  stood  up  in  the  midst  of 
the  assembly.  He  was  a  peasant,  Lars  Larrson  by  name, 
and  had  spent  most  of  his  life  in  laboring  on  a  farm. 

"  Who  is  this  daughter  of  Gustavus  ?  "  asked  the  old 
man.  "  We  do  not  know  her.  Let  her  be  shown  to  us." 

Then  Christina  was  brought  into  the  hall  and  placed 
before  the  old  peasant.  It  was  strange,  no  doubt,  to  see 
a  child  —  a  little  girl  of  six  years  old  —  offered  to  the 
Swedes  as  their  ruler  instead  of  the  brave  king,  her  fa 
ther,  who  had  led  them  to  victory  so  many  times.  Could 
her  baby  fingers  wield  a  sword  in  war  ?  Could  her 
childish  mind  govern  the  nation  wisely  in  peace  ? 

But  the  Swedes  do  not  appear  to  have  asked  them 
selves  these  questions.  Old  Lars  Larrson  took  Chris 
tina  up  in  his  arms  and  gazed  earnestly  into  her  face. 

He  had  known  the  great  Gustavus  well;  and  his  heart 
was  touched  when  he  saw  the  likeness  which  the  little 
girl  bore  to  that  heroic  monarch.  « 

"  Yes,"  cried  he,  with  the  tears  gushing  down  his 
furrowed  cheeks  ;  "this  is  truly  the  daughter  of  our  Gus 
tavus  !  Here  is  her  father's  brow !  —  here  is  his  pier 
cing  eye  !  She  is  his  very  picture  !  This  child  shall  be 
our  queen  ! " 

Then  all  the  proud  nobles  of  Sweden,  and  the  rever 
end  clergy,  and  the  burghers,  and  the  peasants,  knelt 
down  at  the  child's  feet  and  kissed  her  hand. 

"  Long  live  Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden  ! "  shouted 
they. 


286  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

Even  after  she  was  a  woman  grown  Christina  remem 
bered  the  pleasure  which  she  felt  in  seeing  all  these  men 
at  her  feet  and  hearing  them  acknowledge  her  as  their  su 
preme  ruler.  Poor  child  !  she  was  yet  to  learn  that  power- 
does  not  insure  happiness.  As  yet,  however,  she  had  not 
any  real  power.  All  the  public  business,  it  is  true,  was 
transacted  in  her  name ;  but  the  kingdom  was  governed 
by  a  number  of  the  most  experienced  statesmen,  who 
were  called  a  regency. 

But  it  was  considered  necessary  that  the  little  queen 
should  be  present  at  the  public  ceremonies,  and  should 
behave  just  as  if  she  were  in  reality  the  ruler  of  the  na 
tion.  When  she  was  seven  years  of  age,  some  ambassa 
dors  from  the  Czar  of  Muscovy  came  to  the  Swedish 
court.  They  wore  long  beards,  and  were  clad  in  a 
strange  fashion,  with  furs  and  other  outlandish  orna 
ments  ;  and  as  they  were  inhabitants  of  a  half-civilized 
country,  they  did  not  behave  like  other  people.  The 
Chancellor  Oxenstiern  was  afraid  that  the  young  queen 
would  burst  out  a  laughing  at  the  first  sight  of  these 
queer  ambassadors,  or  else  that  she  would  be  frightened 
by  their  unusual  aspect. 

•"  Why  should  I  be  frightened  ? "  said  the  little 
queen.  "And  do  you  suppose  that  I  have  no  better 
manners  than  to  laugh  ?  Only  tell  me  how  I  must  be 
have,  and  I  will  do  it." 

Accordingly,  the  Muscovite  ambassadors  were  intro 
duced  ;  and  Christina  received  them  and  answered  their 
speeches  with  as  much  dignity  and  propriety  as  if  she 
had  been  a  grown  woman. 

All  this  time,  though  Christina  was  now  a  queen,  you 
must  not  suppose  that  she  was  left  to  act  as  she  pleased. 
She  had  a  preceptor,  named  John  Mathias,  who  was  a 
very  learned  man  and  capable  of  instructing  her  in  all 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  287 

the  brandies  of  science.  But  there  was  nobody  to  teach 
her  the  delicate  graces  and  gentle  virtues  of  a  woman. 
She  was  surrounded  almost  entirely  by  men,  and  had 
learned  to  despise  the  society  of  her  own  sex.  At  the 
age  of  nine  years  she  was  separated  from  her  mother, 
whom  the  Swedes  did  not  consider  a  proper  person  to 
be  intrusted  with  the  charge  of  her.  No  little  girl  who 
sits  by  a  New  England  fireside  has  cause  to  envy  Chris 
tina  in  the  royal  palace  at  Stockholm. 

Yet  she  made  great  progress  in  her  studies.  She 
learned  to  read  the  classical  authors  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
and  became  a  great  admirer  of  the  heroes  and  poets  of  old 
times.  Then,  as  for  active  exercises,  she  could  ride  on 
horseback  as  well  as  any  man  in  her  kingdom.  She,  was 
fond  of  hunting,  and  could  shoot  at  a  mark  with  wonder 
ful  skill.  But  dancing  was  the  only  feminine  accomplish 
ment  with  which  she  had  any  acquaintance. 

She  was  so  restless  in  her  disposition  that  none  of  her 
attendants  were  sure  of  a  moment's  quiet  neither  day  nor 
night.  She  grew  up,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  a  very  unamiable 
person,  ill-tempered,  proud,  stubborn,  and,  in  short,  unfit 
to  make  those  around  her  happy  or  to  be  happy  herself. 
Let  every  little  girl,  who  has  been  taught  self-control  and 
a  due  regard  for  the  rights  of  others,  thank  Heaven  that 
she  has  had  better  instruction  than  this  poor  little  Queen 
of  Sweden. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  Christina  was  declared  free  to 
govern  the  kingdom  by  herself  without  the  aid  of  a  re 
gency.  At  this  period  of  her  life  she  was  a  young  woman 
of  striking  aspect,  a  good  figure,  and  intelligent  face,  but 
very  strangely  dressed.  She  wore  a  short  habit  of  gray 
cloth,  with  a  man's  vest  over  it,  and  a  black  scarf  around 
her  neck  ;  but  no  jewels  nor  ornaments  of  any  kind. 

Yet,  though  Christina  was  so  negligent  of  her  appear- 


288  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

ance,  there  was  something  in  her  air  and  manner  that 
proclaimed  her  as  the  ruler  of  a  kingdom.  Her  eyes,  it 
is  said,  had  a  very  fierce  and  haughty  look.  Old  General 
Wrangel,  who  had  often  caused  the  enemies  of  Sweden  to 
tremble  in  battle,  actually  trembled  himself  when  he  en 
countered  the  eyes  of  the  queen.  But  it  would  have 
been  better  for  Christina  if  she  could  have  made  people 
love  her,  by  means  of  soft  and  gentle  looks,  instead  of 
affrighting  them  by  such  terrible  glances. 

And  now  I  have  told  you  almost  all  that  is  amusing  or 
instructive  in  the  childhood  of  Christina.  Only  a  few 
more  words  need  be  said  about  her ;  for  it  is  neither 
pleasant  nor  profitable  to  think  of  many  things  that  she 
did  after  she  grew  to  be  a  woman. 

When  she  had  worn  the  crown  a  few  years,  she  began 
to  consider  it  beneath  her  dignity  to  be  called  a  queen, 
because  the  name  implied  that  she  belonged  to  the 
weaker  sex.  She  therefore  caused  herself  to  be  pro 
claimed  KING  ;  thus  declaring  to  the  world  that  she  de 
spised  her  own  sex  and  was  desirous  of  being  ranked 
among  men.  But  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  her  age 
Christina  grew  tired  of  royalty,  and  resolved  to  be  neither 
a  king  nor  a  queen  any  longer.  She  took  the  crown 
from  her  head  with  her  own  hands,  and  ceased  to  be  the 
ruler  of  Sweden.  The  people  did  not  greatly  regret  her 
abdication ;  for  she  had  governed  them  ill,  and  had  taken 
much  of  their  property  to  supply  her  extravagance. 

Having  thus  given  up  her  hereditary  crown,  Christina 
left  Sweden  and  travelled  over  many  of  the  countries  of 
Europe.  Everywhere  she  was  received  with  great  cere 
mony,  because  she  was  the  daughter  of  the  renowned 
Gustavus,  and  had  herself  been  a  powerful  queen.  Per 
haps  you  would  like  to  know  something  about  her  per 
sonal  appearance  in  the  latter  part  of  her  life.  She  is 


BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES.  289 

described  as  wearing  a  man's  vest,  a  short  gray  petticoat, 
embroidered  with  gold  and  silver,  and  a  black  wig,  which 
was  thrust  awry  upon  her  head.  She  wore  no  gloves, 
and  so  seldom  washed  her  hands  that  nobody  could  tell 
what  had  been  their  original  color.  In  this  strange  dress, 
and,  I  suppose,  without  washing  her  hands  or  face,  she 
visited  the  magnificent  court  of  Louis  XIV. 

She  died  in  1689.  None  loved  her  while  she  lived, 
nor  regretted  her  death,  nor  planted  a  single  flower  upon 
her  grave.  Happy  are  the  little  girls  of  America,  who 
are  brought  up  quietly  and  tenderly  at  the  domestic 
hearth,  and  thus  become  gentle  and  delicate  women ! 
May  none  of  them  ever  lose  the  loveliness  of  their  sex  by 
receiving  such  an  education  as  that  of  Queen  Christina  ! 

Emily,  timid,  quiet,  and  sensitive,  was  the  very  reverse 
of  little  Christina.  She  seemed  shocked  at  the  idea  of 
such  a  bold  and  masculine  character  as  has  been  described 
in  the  foregoing  story. 

"I  never  could  have  loved  her,"  whispered  she  to 
Mrs.  Temple;  and  then  she  added,  with  that  love  of 
personal  neatness  which  generally  accompanies  purity  of 
heart,  "It  troubles  me  to  think  of  her  unclean  hands !  " 

"  Christina  was  a  sad  specimen  of  womankind  indeed," 
said  Mrs.  Temple.  "  But  it  is  very  possible  for  a  woman 
to  have  a  strong  mind,  and  to  be  fitted  for  the  active 
business  of  life,  without  losing  any  of  her  natural  del 
icacy.  Perhaps  some  time  or  other  Mr.  Temple  will  tell 
you  a  story  of  such  a  woman." 

It  was  now  time  for  Edward  to  be  left  to  repose.  His 
brother  George  shook  him  heartily  by  the  hand,  and 
hoped,  as  he  had  hoped  twenty  times  before,  that  to-mor 
row  or  the  next  day  Ned's  eyes  would  be  strong  enough 
to  look  the  sun  right  in  the  facs. 

13  s 


290  BIOGRAPHICAL    STORIES. 

"Thank  you,  George,"  replied  Edward,  smiling;  "but 
I  am  not  half  so  impatient  as  at  first.  If  my  bodily  eye 
sight  were  as  good  as  yours,  perhaps  I  could  not  see 
things  so  distinctly  with  my  mind's  eye.  But  now  there 
is  a  light  within  which  shows  me  the  little  Quaker  artist, 
Ban  West,  and  Isaac  Newton  with  his  windmill,  and 
stubborn  Sam  Johnson,  and  stout  Noll  Cromwell,  and 
shrewd  Ben  Franklin,  and  little  Queen  Christina,  with 
the  Swedes  kneeling  at  her  feet.  It  seems  as  if  I  really 
saw  these  personages  face  to  face.  So  I  can  bear  the 
darkness  outside  of  me  pretty  well." 

When  Edward  ceased  speaking,  Emily  put  up  her 
mouth  and  kissed  him  as  her  farewell  for  the  night. 

"  Ah,  I  forgot !  "  said  Edward,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  can 
not  see  any  of  your  faces.  What  would  it  signify  to  see 
all  the  famous  people  in  the  world,  if  I  must  be  blind  to 
the  faces  that  I  love  ?  '' 

"  You  must  try  to  see  us  with  your  heart,  my  dear 
child,"  said  his  mother. 

Edward  went  to  bed  somewhat  dispirited ;  but,  quickly 
falling  asleep,  was  visited  with  such  a  pleasant  dream  of 
the  sunshine  and  of  his  dearest  friends  that  he  felt  the 
happier  for  it  all  the  next  day.  And  we  hope  to  find  him 
still  happy  when  we  meet  again. 


Cambridge :  Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bijelow,  &  Co. 


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